


Red Core Rex

by Minavi



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I only have a vague understanding of the lore and I mess with that as I please, Illustrations, Kidnapping, Romance, Threats of Violence, but not really all that evil, evil spine, in character? i've never met her, lore adjacent, lots of color matter bs, non-con smooching but nothing more, the girl is feisty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 35,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29571066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minavi/pseuds/Minavi
Summary: A chance encounter with a mysterious robot finds Emily kidnapped, held captive and forced to help plan the infiltration of her place of employment, Walter Manor.  Trying to puzzle out the mystery of the red-eyed "Rex" and what he intends for her employer may prove more than she can handle.  And would he *please* stop kissing her?
Relationships: The Spine/Original Female Character
Comments: 51
Kudos: 21





	1. Emily Makes a New Friend

**Red Core Rex**

by [SketchyStatic ](https://sketchystatic.tumblr.com/) and Minavi

Illustrations by Minavi

Edited by Wiggy

My first thought was _what a pretty motorcycle, I bet Dad would like to see that_. My second thought was to wonder what kind of bastard could manage to take up two parking spaces with a bike. Of course I wasn’t one to narc about parking stuff, so I chose to ignore it but I did pull out my phone to snap a quick picture for dad. 

“Having fun?”

I jumped a little, ruining the picture, as a voice spoke behind me. It was deep, masculine and had a reverberating quality, despite the derisive tone. I spun and found that the speaker was almost right behind me. My mind raced to figure out how he’d gotten there because I didn’t think that even I was able to walk past a six-foot-tall robot in a leather jacket without noticing him.

Having a robot talking to me might have been an exciting surprise six months ago, but having taken a job as a maid at the famous Walter Manor, birthplace of the original automatons, I’d become somewhat inured to the experience. Still, this was certainly not a robot I’d met before, perhaps another recent addition to the family, so I gave him a friendly smile and said, “Well… Yeah, sorry. I just thought your bike was nice and wanted to get a couple of pictures to show my dad.” 

I studied him as I spoke. He was tall and long of limb, wearing faded jeans with holes in them and a black leather jacket. His face was a dull sort of steel color but that could have been because he seemed half caked in dust and grime, much more than would be accounted for just from riding a motorcycle. He had no hair, which was a little surprising as all the bots I’d met so far had synthetic hair or wore wigs, but it didn’t detract from the attractive facial construction that was evident even through the dirt. Black ridges marked his face, the top of his head and his neck, and a double row of tiny red lights blinked over his ears. 

The most startling feature of him, however, were his optics. Glowing eyes didn’t phase me anymore, but I’d never seen red optics on a robot. The black metal that rimmed his eyes made the red stand out even more, particularly as they were narrowed in irritation at me. But they were dull red eyes, without the spark of vitality that I was used to in the bots at the Manor. 

He hadn’t responded to me, just frowned all the more deeply. “Are you ok?” I ventured. “You look like you’ve had a rough day.” A nervous laugh bubbled up before I could stop it. “Or a rough week.”

Still not speaking, he lifted one hand and made a shooing gesture, as if waving off an annoying insect. Automatically I fell back a couple steps, but, determined to be friendly, I pressed on. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Did you just roll in?”

My movement seemed to provoke some sort of predatory instinct, because a cool smirk twisted his lips and he stalked closer. His voice took on a distinctly mocking purr as he said, “Doesn’t a little girl like you have better things to do than interrogate the big, scary robot?”

I knew that he was trying to intimidate me, but between the smirk and his tone I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. Desperately trying to quash it down, I replied, “First of all, I’m not a little girl. Secondly, it’s not interrogation, it’s friendly small talk. What, are you not interested in friends?”

He loomed over me, red eyes a faded glow over his carefully constructed smirk. He didn’t say anything but his demeanor made it very obvious that the answer was ‘Not. In. The. Least.’

It was quickly dawning on me that I had made a mistake in trying to make small talk with this particular bot. I took a few more steps backwards, my hand moving towards my pepper spray before I realized that it wouldn’t do anything because he was a goddamned robot. I gave him what was probably a pretty sickly smile and said, “Maybe we could keep this at acquaintances and leave it there, then?”

Something about the robot was tickling the back of my mind and as I tried to plan my getaway, I concentrated on it. I knew I’d never seen him in person before, so where? An image came to me of an old, faded photograph. That’s right! I had been sent to clean an abandoned storage room at the manor and found some old papers in a foot locker. A flyer of some sort had caught my attention because I had recognized Rabbit and The Jon but there was a mysterious third bot between them. It had been an advertisement for a performance by The Steam Man Band from nearly a century ago. My eyes searched his face and I was almost positive it was the same robot who stood before me. 

Hoping that mention of the Walters would get me to leave me alone, I babbled, “Well, it’s been fun but I kind of need to get to my job. I work at Walter Manor and I’m pretty sure they’ll notice if I don’t make it there on time.

My comment had its effect and he stopped dead, the amused smirk melting away. He swore softly under his breath and his optics started to dart around, scanning the area. 

I wasn’t sure what his response meant, but I felt that my suspicion was confirmed so I pressed on. “So that _was_ you. That’s interesting. It would be a shame if their maid went back and mentioned having met a certain bot. God forbid she felt threatened by him or-”

Before I could finish my threat, he moved, faster than I’d ever seen a bot move. Before I knew what was happening, he had one arm around me and the other hand over my mouth, dragging me like I weighed nothing into the nearest alley. I only had time to register that I’d really fucked up when I was pressed up against a brick wall, none too gently, and those red eyes glowered at me from only inches in front of my face. “Well, now what am I supposed to do with you?” he hissed.

I gave a little kick, realizing that he was holding me at eye level, meaning my feet were nearly a foot off the ground. My heart was beating out of my chest and I was sure my face was bright red and it wasn’t entirely from fear. I tried to suggest that he not hurt me and let me go, but all I got was an unpleasant taste of grimy robot hand. Calling myself twelve kinds of idiot, I slowly started inching my hand back towards the pepper spray. It might not do much, but hopefully it would startle him.

“If I let you talk, will you scream?” he demanded. I shook my head carefully, fingers finally finding the can of spray. Still keeping me pressed up against the wall, he removed his hand from my mouth, eyeing me testily as if waiting for me to scream anyway.

I took a deep, shaky breath. “No one needs to know about this, ok?” I pleaded. “No one. Please, please, I didn’t think about what I was saying, just… Please don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“Oh believe me,” he replied, voice cold. “I have _very_ few regrets. Now, how much do you know? And don’t think of lying to me, little girl. It would make me very displeased.”

My breath rushed out in a nervous whine. I held back the urge to tell him that I was not a little girl and explained, “All I know is that I found some old papers in a foot locker and one of them was a flyer with a picture of you on it. That’s it, I don’t even know your goddamn name! I tried asking about it but nobody would talk to me.”

The memory of approaching Zer0, the most open and sweet of all the bots in the Manor and having him shut me down quickly and succinctly with a warning not to ask about the flyer again, _especially_ not to Rabbit, gave me a renewed chill of fear. Who exactly was I dealing with here?

He considered my words and murmured under his breath so that I could barely make him out. “So they’re trying to erase all memory of me? Good, that will make things easier.”

I blinked and stared at him, completely flabbergasted. Anger flared amid the shock and fear and I snapped, “Who the absolute fuck are you? Do you do this to anyone who recognizes you? And make _what_ easier, exactly?!”

He completely ignored me, eyes narrowed in thought. Finally, as if I hadn’t spoken, he asked, “Who all lives at the Manor now?”

I scowled at him. “It’s hard to say, considering Peter VI keeps adopting new bots. There are a few faces that you should find familiar, though. Rabbit? Zer0? Do they ring a bell?”

He softly repeated back the names, expression unreadable. “It’s Peter VI now, is it? How many new bots?”

“Shit, I don’t know!” I exclaimed, “At least a dozen? They tend to cycle in and out and I’m not exactly their keeper!”

This drew a dark mutter from him about that making things more difficult.

A sense of dread settled in my gut. “Wait… no. No. Are you fucking nuts? What do you plan on doing to them?!” Panic and worry spurred me to begin actively fighting against his grip, any semblance of calm gone. It was like trying to fight iron bars. All I managed to do was further annoy him.

“Hold still,” he snapped. “I don’t intend to do anything to them. I just need to have a little… conversation with Peter A. Walter VI.” He smiled and a shiver ran down my spine. “Just a friendly, little chat.”

“Oh, friendly?” I asked, “Friendly like this? Or even ‘friendlier’?!”

His smile turned amused. Wolfish. His voice shifted to the mocking purr from before. “Oh, I can be very friendly, when I want to be.”

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking _flirt_ with me!” I spat.

The robot snickered and looked me over with a thoughtful expression. “The question is, what do I do with you? I obviously can’t just let you run off and warn them.”

I gave a little tug at my can of pepper spray but my arm was pinned by his grip. I kicked at his legs feebly, tried to wiggle out of his restraining grasp, anything! “What is your plan?” I asked, my voice rising in pitch and volume. “I already said I wouldn’t say anything, asshole!” He watched me squirm with amusement but apparently decided that I was getting too loud and might attract attention so he had to shut me up again.

He accomplished this by covering my mouth with his own in a kiss.

Trust me, that shocked me into silence for a good long second. Then I tried to bite him because _who the fuck does that??_

He drew back and for half a moment I thought he looked surprised at himself, but then he rolled his eyes and clapped his hand over my mouth again. His hand cut off my exclamation of pain. Biting metal was maybe not the smartest thing I could have done. I glared daggers at him as I resumed my attempt to get out of his grip.

His previously dull red eyes sparked a little, with amusement perhaps? “Well,” he said, the start of a twisted smile playing about his lips. “I’ve decided. I’m going to keep you.”

I got another taste of dirty robot as I screamed profanities at him from behind his hand. He obviously couldn’t make out my words but his smile widened into a lopsided grin at my expression. Lightly, he said, “Well I can’t let you go, so I can either take you with me or I can crush your skull like an egg right here and now. Perhaps you prefer the alternative? It would take very little effort on my part.” To demonstrate, he reached into my pants pocket and brought out my phone. There was a grinding crunch of glass and metal as he effortlessly crushed it to mangled pieces. 

Damn it, that was practically new!

Still, the warning sunk in and, though I continued my attempt to incinerate him with my gaze, I gave a curt nod. 

“Now you and I are going to go for a little walk back over to my bike and you’re going to climb on behind me, all friendly like, and we’re going to go for a little ride.” His voice lowered menacingly, “And you’re not going to do anything stupid that you will regret, because trust that I will not regret it at all.”

Continuing the mental stream of vitriol I was hurling at him, I demonstrated my acquiescence by letting the can of pepper spray fall from my hand. He gave me a charming smile, gently set me on my feet and released me, taking a step back and sweeping an arm towards the alley entrance in invitation.

Stiffly, I walked toward the bike, my hands shaking fists at my side. He matched my pace, one of his hands settling at the small of my back in what would look like a friendly gesture to outsiders but could turn into a grab in a blink. “They’re going to realize I’ve gone missing,” I hissed under my breath.

“Good for them,” he replied, equally quiet, “They won’t find you.”

“But they’ll try. And they might find some things about _you_ in the process.”

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “But things would go easier for everyone if they found no trace of you, as opposed to say… your maimed corpse, wouldn’t you agree? So maybe don’t try anything dumb.” 

We got to his bike and from out of a storage space he produced a rather ugly green helmet and handed it to me. I snorted as I looked at it and then up at him. “What? No helmet for you? _Oh wait._ ” I shoved the thing onto my head and glanced around hopefully, praying someone was nearby. I couldn’t see a soul.

With great casualness, he mounted the bike and turned his head to watch me expectantly. I hesitated for only a moment before rigidly climbing on behind him. I resolved to hold on as little as I could without falling off, but he took that option away when he kicked the thing into life before I was even settled and sped out of the parking lot. In a panic I threw my arms around him and held on tight.


	2. In the Basement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily has to come to terms with her current situation, held captive in a basement by an evil robot.

It was hard to hear over the roar of the bike, but I could definitely feel a rumble of amusement from him as I held on for all I was worth. I was glad for the ugly helmet, since he seemed to have very little regard for the speed limit. I tried to talk to him, at first, to ask in a shout where we were going or how long he intended to keep me, but either he couldn’t hear or, more likely, he chose to ignore me.

We drove out of town and down the highway for a bit before turning onto a small country road which led to another and then another. After a couple of hours my legs felt completely numb from the vibration of the motorcycle, but I had a bad feeling they wouldn’t stay that way long once I got off. I spied a sign reading ‘Welcome to Wiggins’ as we flew by. The town, if it could be called that, was little more than a wide spot on the road with a single closed gas station and various animals in most of the yards. 

The robot slowed down abruptly, pressing me even tighter against him, and turned onto a gravel driveway next to a dingy green house. He pulled around the back and, finally, stopped the bike. A more thorough glance at the house told me that it was old but seemed to be in good repair, which was a relief. 

I climbed awkwardly off the motorcycle, my legs already beginning to complain, when the robot grabbed my head. I panicked for a moment before I realized that he was ‘helping’ me take the helmet off. As he did, he put his face near mine and harshly whispered, “I am renting the basement and if you cause any _fuss_ with the sweet, little, old lady who lives upstairs, then you and she will both regret it.” He pulled the helmet off my head, careless of how much hair he took with it, and continued, “I won’t hesitate to kill you both, but I’ll make you watch her die first, understand?”

“You’re a sick bastard,” I spat. “I won’t say shit.”

He mimed tipping his nonexistent hat to me in thanks and then led me, hand at the small of my back, down the outside staircase and into the basement. It was mostly one big room, the southern wall of which was lined with all sorts of old furniture and knick knacks an old woman might have collected over a lifetime. At a glance I spied an old dress form, a shredded cat scratching post, a StairMaster and a box full of unlabeled VHS tapes. To the side were a pair of doors, one open to show a bedroom with a neatly made bed. Against the back wall were an old washer and dryer, with a microwave on an end table next to them. There was little sign that anyone actually lived here, other than it being relatively clean.

He gave me a push into the room and turned to lock the door behind him. I attempted to stretch my legs surreptitiously to ease the ache from the long ride but stilled myself when he turned back. He glowered at me as he took off the leather jacket to reveal a loose, gray t-shirt, and tossed the jacket carelessly over the dress form.

I stood in the center of the room, completely at a loss for what to do now. I wrapped my arms around myself. “So what exactly are you planning to do with me?” I ventured, drawing a sharp look from him. “Keep me locked up with the other knick knacks? Leave me here while you’re out fucking up God knows who’s life?”

His glare dragged on and I abruptly realized that he really had no idea _what_ he was going to do with me at that point. My mouth fell open and angry words tumbled out of it, as happened often when I wasn’t guarding myself. “You are a fucking dumbass. What kind of- you just _kidnapped_ me and you don’t even know what you’re going to do with me? What the _hell-”_

His scowl turned dangerous and my teeth clicked shut. “I didn’t exactly plan this out in advance,” he snarled, “You were the one who had to be nosy and forced me to decide between killing or keeping you. The former option is not off the table, by the way.”

I should have been terrified but honestly I was too angry for rational emotions. I nodded curtly. “Well can I at least know what to call you? Kidnapper? Mr. Red Eyes?”

“Rex,” he replied, bluntly, turning to mess with something in a cabinet on the wall, his back blocking my view of what it might be.

I tried very hard to stop the snort of amusement that tore out of me, but ultimately failed. “Rex?”

He slammed the cabinet shut, “I go by a lot of names. If you don’t like that one you can call me Silver. Or whatever the hell you want, I don’t care.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that you’re silver under all that grime?” I asked. “When was the last time you cleaned yourself, geez. You smell like you’ve been rolling around in roadkill.”

He had his back to me again, tugging off his knee-high, black, leather riding boots (that I had to admit were pretty sweet, regardless of their wearer) but the sudden tension in his shoulders clearly expressed to me that he was regretting his decision to bring me here and images of the numerous ways he might painfully end my life began to swirl before my eyes.

“A six foot three, shiny robot with red, glowing eyes tends to attract attention. Looking like a mess helps me pass myself off as one of those half-alive, failed bot experiments that have been shambling around more and more frequently of late as people try to match the Walters.”

“Yeah and I’m sure the smell keeps them from getting too close. Just-” I became aware that my breathing was beginning to speed up and it occurred to me that the shock was fading. Realization that I was stuck here and in serious danger overtook my mind, playing nicely with the speculations of how I might soon die. “Just- I need to be alone. Right now.” 

He turned with a little frown that an idiot might believe indicated concern and pointed towards the bedroom. “That’s all yours. I don’t use it anyway.”

I gave a quick nod and sped in, closed the door roughly, spared just long enough to note that there was no lock, and promptly collapsed on the bed to begin an epic panic attack.

* * *

The next couple hours passed in a blur. I have vague recollections of hyperventilation, sobbing and nausea. Once the panic attack had passed I just laid on the bed for a while dissociating until there was a knock on the door. The knock pulled me at least partway to reality and I considered ignoring it but decided that that would be a stupid idea.

I dragged myself off the bed and shuffled to open the door just wide enough to see him. He’d changed into an off-white, sleeveless shirt. There was a red glow from beneath the shirt, just where his breastbone would end if he were human. His core, I realized. I was starting to hate the color red. “...what?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Here,” he said, proffering a couple of bottles of water. I accepted them. I was thirsty and too tired to fight anyway. 

“I don’t have any food,” he continued. “I was going to…” he indicated the door a little awkwardly. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry,” I said, tonelessly. “It can wait until morning.” I barely waited for his nod before closing the door in his face.

I did not expect to sleep at all that night, but I think the stress and the panic attack sucked away all of my energy and I passed out relatively early. It was not a restful sleep, though, by any means. My dreams were plagued by nightmares of being trapped in small, confined spaces, or trying to run away from something that was always just a step behind me, no matter how fast I ran, and red eyes, always red eyes watching me from the darkness.

In the morning I felt even more exhausted than when I’d gone to bed. And hungry. I hadn’t eaten anything since a late breakfast the previous day. This was a conundrum because, hungry as I was, I was loath to ask Rex for anything. I didn’t even want to see him, if I could avoid it.

For a while I just laid on the bed, trying to ignore the pangs in my stomach, and letting my eyes rove around the room in which I’d found myself. The bed was old, the springs creaking every time I shifted, but comfortable enough, with a quilt of blue and pale yellow squares on top. Above it was a single hopper window, but I could tell at a glance that it didn’t open. A nightstand next to the bed held a lamp and a broken alarm clock. The wall opposite the bed seemed to be one long closet with sliding doors, but I had neither the energy nor the inclination to look at Rex’s wardrobe. 

A rocking chair in the corner held a very large teddy bear that looked like it had been won from a cheap carnival game. Its eyes were not aligned properly, making it look rather stupid. I maliciously dubbed it Rex 2 in my mind. I never said I wasn’t petty, and in my predicament I had to take what little victories I could get.

The only other object of note in the room was a chest of drawers with a blue vase holding a bouquet of fake, red roses. It all made me wonder a bit about the woman who was renting out her basement to a sinister robot. Desperate times, I supposed.

After about an hour of trying to deny the necessities of the flesh, I gave up. Even if I didn’t get any food, I had to use the toilet. It occurred to me to hope that the other door in the main room led to a bathroom, given that robots did not need them, in my experience.

I brushed my fingers through my hair, though why I felt the need to look presentable to my captor is beyond me, and cracked open the door. At first I didn’t see him and jumped when I realized he was right next to me, sitting cross-legged on the concrete floor, back to the wall. Slowly, he turned his head to look up at me, optics looking somehow dimmer than yesterday.

“Good morning,” he said, an emotionless greeting.

I deemed not to return the nicety and gestured to the other door with my thumb. “Please tell me that’s a bathroom.”

He nodded and, searching my face, asked, “Are you… ok?”

In a flat tone, I replied, “I’ve been kidnapped by a robot who could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist because he has a vendetta against my boss. I’m peachy.”

He turned his eyes from me and replied, “That’s fair. If it helps, once my business with Walter is resolved, you’ll be free to go.”

“Considering that I assume you’re going to kill him, no, it doesn’t particularly help.” Without another word to him, I opened the bathroom door and went in. 

Just before the door closed, I heard him say in a soft voice, “I’m not planning to kill him. Not if I can help it.” I grit my teeth and slammed the door.

The room was basic; toilet, shower and sink, but there was a small pile of towels on a stand in the corner and something made the air smell pleasantly like vanilla. While washing my hands, I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror over the sink. Despite my efforts, my hair was still a mess, betraying my tossing and turning during the night. My eyes looked sunken and red-rimmed and my cheeks were splotchy. With a sigh, I washed my face and found a brush to apply to my hair. At least I didn’t have to worry about it being Rex’s, I thought.

When I emerged, he was up and putting on his jacket. “Are you going somewhere?” I asked, trying not to sound eager.

“We are,” he replied. “I told you, I have no food, and I’m not leaving you here alone.” His concerned act from earlier seemed to have evaporated, which was fine by me since I didn’t believe it for a minute anyway.

I took a moment to half-heartedly straighten my clothes and, without looking at him, asked, “I assume you have rules?”

That made him pause, once again demonstrating his lack of preparedness for the fine art of kidnapping. “Just… just don’t do anything stupid, ok?” he said, at last.

“I’ve already done enough stupid things for one lifetime,” I replied, testily. “Let’s just go."


	3. Necessities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans have needs and robot kidnappers are obligated to supply for them.

Rex followed me out to the motorcycle, locking the door behind us. When we pulled out, he turned in the opposite direction than that from which we’d come the day before. We only rode for about fifteen minutes this time, for which I was grateful, before arriving at a somewhat larger town than Wiggins. At the very least it had a grocery store.

As we walked inside, his hand forever at the small of my back, he said, “There’s a minifridge in the basement and a microwave, but no stove, so you’ll mostly have to get easy prep or no prep food. Otherwise grab whatever you want.”

I gave him a noncommittal grunt as he handed me a basket. To my surprise, he took one for himself, as well. As we wandered up and down the aisles, he filled it with fresh fruit, vegetables and other foodstuffs. As I grabbed things and tossed them in my basket without much thought, I watched him. I wasn’t the only one. Robots weren’t unheard of anymore, but they also weren’t common and he had a number of eyes on him as he led me through the store.

As he put a small tub of butter in his basket, I finally asked, “Who are you getting food for?” Under my breath I added, “I thought you didn’t eat?”

His spine stiffened, the tiny lights framing the back of his neck blinked rapidly but he didn’t answer, just turned and continued down the dairy aisle as if he hadn’t heard me. 

I followed after and hissed, “Rex, I’ve been pretty goddamn accommodating. You can answer the question.”

He stared straight ahead but muttered, “This is part of how I pay my rent. She can’t travel easily.”

I was tempted to tease him about running errands for grannies but he was actually answering questions so I decided not to push my luck. “Am I allowed to ask about the old lady, or will I be met with moody silence?” Ok, maybe I pushed my luck a little.

He turned into the soup aisle. “Depends on what you ask.”

“Who exactly does she think you are? And what does she think you do?” I followed him, grabbing a can of cream of something soup without really paying attention to the label and tossing it into my basket as I went.

“To her, I am ‘Young Mister Silver’, a nice, young robot who is down on his luck and needed a hand to get my feet under me. She believes that I have found a nice blue collar job here in town and I bring her food on my way home from work and sometimes- and we respect each other’s privacy.”

“And how exactly are you going to explain the human girl that comes and goes places with you?”

Nonchalantly, he replied, “You’re just a friend that I’m helping out.” Then he shot me a mocking smirk, “Unless you’d prefer something more… intimate?”

“Fuck off,” I snapped. For a moment I furiously considered making a break for it. We were surrounded by people and if I screamed and ran he couldn’t take us all, could he? My jaw clenched as my eyes darted toward the exit then at him. He was staring at me as if he knew exactly what was on my mind and he looked calmly prepared to take us all out without a second thought. My stomach churned but I forced a sneer and grabbed a box of cereal as if that had been my intent all along.

He turned and continued down the aisle as if the moment had meant nothing. I tried to mentally call down lightning to strike him where he stood. After a minute I decided to try to resume the conversation. Knowledge was power and I was feeling pretty powerless. “So what do you really do?”

Rex seemed willing to continue answering, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how many more times I could piss him off before he’d lose patience. “At the moment, I plan.”

I rolled my eyes. “Planning doesn’t exactly get you money for all of this,” I retorted, giving my grocery basket a wiggle.

With a snort, he said, “I’ve been around a long time and I am not constrained by a lot of morals. Money isn’t an issue.”

“Thanks,” I said, my voice dripping sarcasm, “That clears up absolutely nothing. But fine, how long until your plan is done? A week? A month?”

“However long it takes,” he replied, scowling at nothing. “Hopefully less than a month.”

I huffed a sigh. “Great, so I get to stick around with gracious granny until then, because I’m _assuming_ you don’t want me around while you’re ‘planning’. With no communication to the outside world unless I’m with you. And if I try to get help for either Peter or myself, Granny and I both end up as fertilizer. Am I understanding that right, or are there any other nails you need to sink into the coffin?” I didn’t even try to hold back a scowl of my own but, to my disgust, the simmering anger in my voice seemed to amuse him.

Rex turned to me with a sardonic smile and I was reminded that whoever had designed him had great aesthetic sense. “There are a couple of things. First, I just committed a kidnapping in broad daylight, so, after this little outing, I will be laying low for a few days and you’ll get the benefit of my charming company. Also, you will be helping me with the planning.”

“Excuse me?!” I yelped. He gave me a warning look and I dropped my volume back to a whisper, “You want me to help you- no! Absolutely not!”

His smile widened and he said, in a very reasonable manner, “Things at the Walter residence will certainly have changed since I was last there in the seventies. You will get to tell me all about what is new so that I can accomplish my goal with the least _collateral damage_ possible. Surely you want that, right?”

I glowered at him for a long moment and spat, “Have I mentioned that you are an unbridled, smug prick? Because if I have, I want to emphasize that.”

He chuckled with seeming delight at my insult and reached over. Before I realized what he was doing or could even think to move out of the way he tweaked my nose. I spluttered. “Let’s go pay for this and try to figure out how to cram it all on the bike,” he said, turning towards the registers.

My hand balled into a fist at my side and I fantasized for a second about being able to sock him without doing more damage to me than his face. Then I hurried to catch up and hissed under my breath, “Don’t. Touch. Me.” He did not deem to respond.

As we packed the groceries into the panniers on his motorcycle a thought occurred to me and I sighed, “Considering that you look like you haven’t bathed in months and that you’re balder than Curly, I’m going to assume you don’t have anything for me to wash up with. Or anything for me to wear, unless you commonly steal women like me.”

He glanced at me over the bike and said, “I have soap… But nothing else.”

“Great,” I said, getting on the bike. “Congratulations, you get to share your clothes with your hostage.” I scowled at his back, annoyed with myself for not thinking of this sooner and annoyed with him for existing.

“We can pick up a few things,” he said, over his shoulder. “Clothes, shampoo and whatever.” 

I struggled not to let my voice become any more bitter than it already was as I replied, “How very gracious. And here I thought you wanted it to seem like we were more ‘intimate’.”

He took me to another store that had some general goods and a rather pathetic selection of clothes. It was small and a bit run down, like everything else in the town, it seemed, but I didn’t see any other options. I picked out some bare essentials; shampoo, conditioner, a few shirts, a couple pairs of dark jeans, some pajama pants and undergarments. I found it mildly amusing that he stood nearby but pretended to be very interested in looking at the rack of ladies shoes while I picked out those last.

The ride back to his basement was a bit of a balancing act, and I had to hug the bag of clothes between myself and him, but we managed.

When we got back, Rex helped me carry our purchases downstairs. I quickly put them away and headed toward the bathroom and the beautiful thought of getting clean. I hesitated halfway through the door and turned back to him. “I hope I don’t have to say this, but for the love of fuck don’t come in while I am showering or getting changed.”

He had the audacity to look offended that I would suggest such a thing and waved me in, telling me that he was going to take the rest of the groceries up to Miss Beeson, the old lady upstairs. I treated myself to a long shower, trying to scrub away all of the stress of my current situation. It didn’t work, but at least I felt a little better with clean hair and a fresh outfit.

He was just coming down the stairs as I emerged with my hair wrapped in a towel. I held the bathroom door open for him and pointed in, “Your turn.” If he was going to be hanging around here with me for a few days, he was going to wash off the grime and stink, or so help me.

To my surprise, he did not make any comment, just went into the bathroom and started a shower. It took a while, I imagine he had to get gunk out of a lot of little crevices, but he emerged as I was just finishing up a bowl of cereal.

I was loath to admit it, even to myself, but Rex cleaned up nicely. The name Silver finally seemed to apply as his chassis gleamed in the poor basement lighting. The red lights along his skull and arms seemed more vivid as well. It must be nice, I thought to myself, to be constructed with the intent of beauty, rather than having to trust to the whims of genetics. Stupid pretty evil robot. 

I cleaned my dishes and barricaded myself in my bedroom. A little digging in the chest of drawers turned up a pad of legal paper and a couple of pencils, so I flopped on the bed to sketch for a while. 

I put it off as long as I could, but hunger and other bodily necessities drove me from my haven, such as it was, just as stars began to show through my little hopper window. When I emerged, I found him sitting in the same place he’d been that morning, on the floor next to the bedroom door. I frowned down at him.

“I am assuming you don’t sleep?”

He met my gaze with a bland expression, “Occasionally I have to go into sleep mode for internal diagnostics and repair, but not for a while.”

I crossed to the minifridge and grabbed one of the instant meals to shove in the microwave. While the machine hummed, I fidgeted with my hands, trying to find my words. “Right, so… What exactly is your goal? Because I… I-I’m not going to help you hurt them. None of them. Even if it means that I... “ I felt myself starting to shake and crossed my arms to keep my hands from balling into fists. “I won’t.” I finished, firmly.

He regarded me with dull, red eyes for a long moment. I tried to interpret his expression. Annoyance? Intrigue? Possibly even grudging respect? I’d yet to narrow it down when he took his eyes from mine to examine his hands. “I don’t want to hurt any of them,” he said, sounding a little tired. “I just need Walter to do something for me. Unfortunately, they will not let me near him, if they knew. They would probably try to shut me down and disassemble me if they knew I was even this close.”

His response surprised me and I felt my shaking begin to slow as I stared at him. I had a hundred questions but started with what I thought was the simplest. “What do you need him to do?”

His head came up and his eyes flared angrily. “Don’t push it,” he said, voice harsh again. “That is between me and him.”

I automatically shrank back slightly, but that reaction spurred a flash of annoyance and I quickly forced myself to look unafraid. “You’re threatening my life and possibly the lives of others. I think I have a right to know.”

The anger drained out of Rex as quickly as it had come and he leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

I stared at him until the microwave dinged. “...fine,” I said, fetching my pathetic looking meal. “So you just want to get in and get Peter alone to talk? Is that all?”

“Yes,” he replied, still staring at the ceiling. “It would be very… unfortunate if anyone else were to see me.”

“And I suppose I can’t ask why that is.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond, grabbing a fork and heading back to the bedroom. “Ok, we can work on that tomorrow. I’m going to go… lie down.”

He nodded without looking at me and muttered, “Goodnight.”

“...night.”


	4. Nap Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even evil robots need their beauty sleep, right?

My second night as Rex’s captive was hardly any more restful than the first. I left the bedroom, bleary-eyed and ready for breakfast, to find him sitting in his usual spot. I just looked him over and asked, “Did you move at all last night?”

Slowly his eyes moved over to meet mine and, voice flat, he replied, “Why?”

I clicked my tongue in annoyance and set to making a bowl of cereal. “Well, call me crazy, but it isn’t normal… or healthy… for a person to sit against a wall all night doing nothing. Even if that person doesn’t need sleep.” I was really starting to regret choosing the healthy bran cereal. If I was stuck here I at least deserved multicolored marshmallows.

His eyes rolled back to the ceiling. “Not a person,” he replied.

That’s just what I needed, a sulking emo robot kidnapper. I poured my milk and said, “You are too a person. An asshole of a person, but a person all the same.”

He snorted but didn’t take his eyes from the ceiling. “Evil robot, remember? Not human and any shred of humanity I might have claimed, I lost a long time ago. Seems like not a person to me.”

I crouched in front of him and shoved a spoonful of bran flakes into my mouth, talking with my mouth full in the hopes that it would annoy him. “Someone doesn’t have to be human to be a person and…” I nearly choked on my cereal, a wave of disbelief washing over me, as I realized what I’d wanted to say. _You’re not all bad_. This demented robot had kidnapped me with no remorse! Oh joy, the Stockholm Syndrome was settling in nicely. 

My ploy with the cereal seemed to work because he gave me a look of aversion and then said, “Miss Beeson said that if you wanted to use her stove, you were welcome, provided it was before 7pm.”

I nodded and stood, wishing there was a chair in there other than Rex 2’s rocking chair in my bedroom and began to slowly pace as I ate. “I hope you don’t mind if I talk to her a little. Maybe ask her about the area.” 

“As long as you don’t say anything she shouldn’t hear,” he replied, a blatant warning in his tone.

“Yeah, duh,” I said, “You’ve made that very clear, thanks.”

He watched me as I paced back and forth, finishing my cereal. He continued watching me as I rinsed my bowl and spoon and put them away. And he still continued watching me as I walked to the bathroom. Before I opened the door I spun to face him, hands on my hips. “Do you _need_ something?”

He stood and turned to face me. He was way too tall. Who gave him the right to tower over people like that? “I have a question for you,” he said, at last.

“Oh this should be good,” I said, crossing my arms and waiting.

He hesitated long enough that I almost told him to spit it out before finally asking, “...what is your name?”

I honestly don’t know why I was so surprised, but it took me a minute to process what he was saying. When I did, I leaned against the door and put my hand over my face. “Oh my fucking god, It’s been three days and you never asked… _Wait_ .” My eyes snapped up to him as a rush of anger washed over me. “ _You kissed me without even knowing my name?!_ ”

Rex blinked at me in surprise a few times before a laugh burst out of him. “Darlin’, I kissed you without even knowing if I was going to let you live or not.”

I felt my face flush red and gave a short, angry scream. “You fucking bastard! What is wrong with you? And _don’t- DON’T_ call me Darlin’! _”_

As I should have expected, my outrage brought a pleased smirk to his face. He walked towards me- no, that doesn’t do it justice. He sauntered towards me like a cat towards a trapped mouse. With one finger he gently tilted my chin up so I was forced to look into his eyes. In a low voice that did things to my stomach, he said, “You haven’t told me what you would like me to call you instead, Darlin’.”

I groaned and tried to shove him away. It was akin to trying to shove an oak tree. “Emily,” I spat, “There, happy?!” Well aware that I was blushing heavily, I tried to look away, hoping he’d take the color for a flush of anger. 

Unfortunately, my attempts to push him only encouraged him. He dipped his head to keep his red eyes on mine and purred, “Emily.”

“ _Don’t say it like that!_ ” I screeched, backing up a few steps, desperate to get away from him. “You don’t get to talk to me like I’m- I’m some _toy_ of yours!”

My attempt to escape was for naught as he followed me, forcing me further backwards until I was up against a wall. That ‘oh shit’ feeling settled in my stomach as I realized that I’d managed to tighten the bars on his trap nicely. “But Emily,” he murmured in that damned, deep bass, moving as close as he could without touching me, “You’re just so fun to play with.”

Then, to my shock, I felt his lips press quickly, lightly to my left earlobe. I had just enough time to wonder how metal lips could be so soft before I screamed, “NO!” I pressed my hand against his neck and shoved in an effort to push him back. “ _You prick! Get off!”_

He smiled widely but let me push him back, and make no mistake, it was his choice. I don’t think I could have moved him with a truck unless he wanted it. “Enjoy your shower,” he said, before turning and going into the bedroom. I heard him begin to rummage in the closet.

I stared after him for half a moment, absolutely flabbergasted and shocked, before stomping into the bathroom. I slammed the door but it bounced back, almost hitting me in the face. I was about to try again when I realized that it hadn’t shut because metal fingers were blocking it. A smug metal face looked at me through the partially open door and said, “Just in case you were wondering, Miss Beeson is almost completely deaf, so you can squawk all you want and she’ll never hear.” He flashed his teeth at me and removed his hand, going back into the bedroom.

“I don’t squawk!” I squawked and then slammed the door again, for real this time.

* * *

To my dismay, there was only so long you could drag your feet while taking care of your hygiene. I did not want to have to go back out there and face him again, but I also didn’t want to spend the whole day pouting in the bathroom. Still I managed to sullenly brush my teeth for like five minutes. 

It was at least forty minutes later when I finally emerged, still seething but clean and changed. “So now what?” I asked, even as I threw the door open.

There was no answer so I glanced to his usual place. He was there, slumped a bit against the wall, eyes downcast and paying no attention to me whatsoever. That probably should have been an improvement, but it still stirred my temper even further. “Oh, so what? Suddenly you’ve decided to not talk to me?” 

I moved closer to him, hands on my hips. He was _not_ allowed to do all of that and then just ignore me. He remained motionless, not acknowledging me in the least. I tried to keep my voice calm so as not to provoke him again, but I couldn’t just let this go. “If you think this is funny, you’re wrong. I keep thinking you can’t get any worse and then you prove yourself to be even more of an ass.” 

I knelt down to wave a hand in front of his face but, at that angle, I realized that his eyes were open but dark. The red glow was completely extinguished. “...oh, shit,” I breathed. “Nap time.” 

Slowly I stood back up and glanced towards the door. It was locked but only to keep people out, not in. I quickly looked around the room to see if I could figure out where his keys might be. My eyes fell on the leather jacket, flopped gracelessly over the old dress form. I cast one more glance at Rex before quietly and carefully walking over and dipping a finger into the pockets to see if I could find them. The thing had a lot of pockets and I had to search a bit before I found them in an internal one. 

My fingers had just closed around the key ring when there was a loud clanging sound behind me. I automatically snatched the whole jacket to me, smothering a scream as I snapped my head around to look.

The robot had somehow tipped over and was laying on his side now, head twisted at an awkward angle but, thankfully, eyes still dark. I looked at him for a second, stomach twisting guiltily, before slipping the keys out of the pocket.

I was so close. Just slip out the door and by the time he knew I was gone, it would be too late. I cast one last glance at him. Could robots be uncomfortable? Could they get cricks in their necks? Like an idiot, I decided to do one little nice thing for him before I disappeared.

I crept back over and knelt down to adjust the position of his head to something a bit more natural. 

The moment my fingers met his metallic skin, his optics flared to life, for a split second they were a brilliant green but quickly engulfed by flaming red. He lurched away from my touch with a snarled, “What?” His body was tense and coiled, as if ready to spring into movement. His expression terrified me more than anything I’d seen from him before, even when he’d had me against a wall and threatened to crush the life out of me. There was a wildness and ferocity to his face, combined with a distant vacancy to his eyes, that told me he wasn’t seeing the basement and me, he was somewhere else.

I couldn’t stop my startled yelp as I stumbled back, falling on my ass. “What? I didn’t- nothing! Rex, you went into sleep mode.” I dropped the jacket and keys by my side, silently begging him not to notice. “Rex, it’s me, Emily!”

His lip curled up to show his teeth and he opened his mouth to speak but I think he must have started to register how pale and wide-eyed I was. The burning glow of his optics faded as they focused on me and a confused frown replaced the enraged expression and then even that relaxed. He shifted his body to sit cross-legged on the floor. “Right,” he said, slowly. “I must have… accidentally gone into sleep mode.” He brought up both hands to run them over his head and then gave it a little shake. “I… I’m sorry.”

I took a few shaky breaths and struggled to find my voice, “Y-you fell over. I was going to… t-to straighten you out. And put your jacket over you.” I scooted back a bit further, wanting as much space between us as possible but also not wanting to move too suddenly until I was sure he was back to normal. Whatever normal meant for Rex, anyway. I pulled my legs close and muttered, “...apparently f-fucking with me really took it out of you.”

He eyed the jacket suspiciously for a moment and my breath caught, but his shoulders sagged and he leaned back against the wall. “I only recall one little kiss, I don’t remember going all _that_ far,” he said. His tone was teasing, but only half-hearted at best.

Deciding to feign ignorance to his innuendo, I replied, “I seem to recall a kiss the day before yesterday, one today and also you, y’know, _fucking kidnapping me_ , holding me up against a wall, keeping me from screaming, and all that? Not to mention all the little comments and threats you’ve made. Those all add up.” My heart rate was finally starting to return to normal but I was mentally kicking myself for not getting the fuck out while I had the chance.

In a dull voice, he replied, “Well an evil robot’s gotta evil and all that. Besides, you liked the kisses at least, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“I did _not_ , and-” I bit my tongue, just catching myself from denying that he was evil again. Shifting rapidly, I instead said, “And you can’t prove otherwise!”

After looking at me for a second as if aware that I hadn’t said what I intended but unable to puzzle out what that might have been, he held out a hand to me. “Come here,” he ordered.

My eyes widened and I scooted back further. “No. Why?”

I focused on him a little more, trying to wipe away the horrifying, feral Rex from my mind’s eye and see what was actually in front of me. His movements were a little slow, jerkier than they had been before. His voice sounded hollow as he said, “I need to go into sleep mode for a little bit. “Please come here.”

“...what?” I shook my head in confusion. “What do you- how exactly am I supposed to help with that?”

“Emily,” he said, his tone weary but also holding a note of warning.

“Rex,” I replied, echoing his tone and starting to frown. “Tell me what the fuck you plan on doing before I just hand myself over.”

“I can’t let you wander off. You will stay here with me.”

My stomach sank as thoughts of what he could mean by that assaulted my mind. “...oh my god. Oh my sweet god, no.” I scowled at him fiercely. “I am not going to fucking- to fucking _spoon_ you! I wouldn’t even know where to go!”

He stared at me, the weary expression paired by confusion. Finally he said, “I am just going to hold on to your hand.”

Had the concrete floor suddenly melted into boiling lava and swallowed me up, I would have welcomed it at that moment. I was sure my face looked rather like lava in color, at least. “...o-oh. Right. Of course. I…” I made a desperate grab to gather my wits. “How long does sleep mode last for you?”

“That depends on a number of factors,” He replied, “But right now… one hour, twelve minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

I nodded and stood, trying to hide the shaking in my legs. “Okay, just give me a sec.” I went into the bedroom and fetched my legal pad and paper along with a big book I’d found earlier entitled “101 Embroidery Stitches”. Returning to the main room, I managed to only hesitate for a moment before sitting next to him. He wordlessly held out his hand and I gave him mine. His fingers closed around my wrist and I felt as if I’d been handcuffed.

“Does noise wake you up?” I asked, “Or just movement?”

He settled back, leaning against the wall, “A loud enough noise, or if I was shaken awake, but a little noise or movement is fine.” 

“Alright… Try not to fall over this time, I really don’t want to be crushed.” I sighed softly and started to sketch on the paper, glancing up and trying to replicate a few of the knicknacks from the pile. After a bit, I looked over at him. His eyes were closed but I could still make out a hint of a red glow from behind his eyelids. He was sitting fully erect, not slumped like before, and seemed quite sturdy.

It occurred to me that this might be some kind of test. I made a quiet snorting sound and went back to sketching before speaking softly, “So much for it being an hour and a half. Do you normally have problems going to sleep?”

He made no response so I smirked to myself and very carefully lifted my pencil, running it just inside the grooves around his neck. “You’re a bad actor, just so you know… Now, let’s find out if robots are ticklish.” 

To my disappointment, he did not respond. I persevered, slowly sticking the pencil in deeper and deeper, intentionally letting it lightly bump into wires and tubes. “Come on, Rex, I know you can laugh… You’ve already laughed at my misfortune enough.” Still there was nothing. I withdrew the pencil and chewed on the eraser as I considered. “...hm, either you are extremely stubborn or… or you weren’t in sleep mode earlier.”

That thought brought a slight frown to my face but I decided not to pursue the notion and instead went back to sketching, humming quietly to myself. Eventually I got bored of drawing random junk and decided to try and replicate his hand instead. It was looking pretty good, I thought. Not exactly stellar, but it was clear that it was his hand and it was decently shaded. 

I almost jumped out of my skin when Rex said, “Not bad.” 

I turned to glare at him. His eyes were half closed and he looked for all the world like a sleepy cat. A shiny, silver sleepy cat. “I- how long have you been awake?” I demanded.

“28 seconds.”

I sighed and leaned back. “...thanks. Do you feel better?”

He seemed to consider the question before replying, “Mostly.”

Surreptitiously, I studied him out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t seem particularly ticked off at me but I had to know. It was stupid, but I had to know. “...did you… feel anything?” I ventured.

His brow lifted. “My sensors are generally turned inward to monitor and evaluate my internal functions while I’m in sleep mode. What should I have felt?”

My shoulders hunched as I subconsciously tried to make myself smaller to avoid his wrath. “...possibly… someone… poking inside your neck with a pencil?” The last came out in a squeaky rush. Taking a breath, I continued, more slowly and with my eyes turned down to my sketch, “I thought you might be screwing with me again.”

He snorted. “Don’t poke inside my neck and I won’t poke inside yours.” It sounded like his tone was intended to be threatening but he didn’t have the heart for it. He finally released my wrist from his grip but before I could do anything about this crumb of freedom, his arm wrapped around me and easily scooped me across his lap. 

I only had a chance to make a small ‘Eep!’ before both of his arms were around me, locking me into place. “What are you-?” I spluttered, “Put me down!”

My time with Rex had taught me to expect him to either get mad or start maliciously teasing me and trampling all over my personal boundaries. I did not expect him to whisper a soft, “Shh,” as he lightly rested his head on my shoulder. “Just… give me a minute.”

I made a sound like a hamster being stepped on and stared at him in complete shock. Was he actually crazy? Like truly, legitimately cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?! In a strangled voice I said, “I would very much like an explanation, thank you!” I pressed my lips tight to prevent myself from saying more, trying desperately to compose myself and somehow stop myself from going beet red. I was not very successful.

His eyes were closed and the voice that came out of him was by far too gentle and wistful for my infuriating robot captor. “Just… I haven’t had a chance to be close to anyone in a long time… Can I just have a minute to remember? ...Please?”

I stilled, shocked and trying to comprehend what was going on. Finally I settled myself down a bit, my heart giving a little twist as I looked at him. “I... yeah. Yes.”


	5. Just One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily tries to engage her evil robot captor in conversation with mixed results.

Rex held me in his arms, head resting on my shoulder, for what I am pretty sure was exactly sixty seconds. Then he sat up and released me, leaning back against the wall and turning his eyes to the ceiling. “Thank you.”

I stared at him, a little taken aback for some reason at this abrupt dismissal. “I… you’re welcome,” I replied and then paused for another beat before moving away. I could still feel the heat in my cheeks and I figured my eyes were still the size of dinner plates so I decided to hightail it into the bedroom and hide there. 

So I did, and I stayed there until Rex dragged me out a few hours later to make me eat dinner.

* * *

The next day I found myself sitting on the floor in the main room across from Rex. I could not begin to comprehend how he didn’t go crazy just sitting in one place for days at a time, doing absolutely nothing. Well, maybe that did explain a few things about his mental state, after all. I, however, was bored out of my skull.

“So,” I said, drawing his attention to me, “Now what? We’re stuck here together for at least a few days. Did you want to tell me what you’ve planned so far?”

“Hmm,” he replied, “Not much, so far. I was only really getting a feel for the layout of the city when I ran into you. Back when-” A little frown passed across his face, “Back when I lived there, people didn’t come and go very often. I certainly didn’t expect the first person I spoke to to be from the Manor.”

I blinked. “Wait, I was the first person you talked to? How long has it been since you’ve been there? Where exactly have you been?”

He held up one finger and said, “I meant the first person I spoke to in the city.” He raised another finger, “About fifty years.” A third finger lifted, “And I have been… all over. Africa, Asia, South America. Anywhere but the good old US of A.” As he spoke that last bit his brows drew down and there was a sarcastic bite to his words.

“I don’t exactly blame you. It’s not like this place is all that it’s cracked up to be.” I began to idly play with a strand of my hair as I considered how to ask my next question. It had been weighing on my mind since yesterday but I didn’t want to annoy him. Finally, I decided there was nothing for it but to just jump in head first. “About yesterday,” I ventured, avoiding his gaze, “When I was… when I was moving you. Do you have more than… I guess more than one kind of sleep mode?”

He tensed and I prepared for him to snarl at me about minding my own business, but instead he said, “I must have accidentally slipped into a deep sleep mode before. That would have been different than normal.”

Ever one to poke the sleeping bear, I pressed him. “Yeah, it was definitely different. Your optics went out and when you turned back on they were green, just for a second.” I let my eyes flicker back up to him and then down again. “It… listen. I’ve been around bots for a while now. That didn’t look like a sleep mode.” I braced myself for his response.

All he said, in a slightly strained voice, was, “Emily, I am going to ask you to please drop it.”

Automatically, I looked up at him in surprise. He was just watching me with faded red eyes. “Tell me about the Manor,” he said, changing the subject. “Is the security still dismal?”

I figured I’d pushed it far enough and would wait until later to try and address it again. I took a deep breath and admitted, “It’s not perfect. There’s the large iron fence, probably fifteen feet tall. They had an alarm system installed, but I know the code. All the doors and windows lock from the inside, but I get the feeling that you don’t mind picking a lock or two. The biggest problem is making sure that you’re not seen, which is hard because there are security cameras and all sorts of random bots and Walter Workers milling about.”

He nodded as I listed off the different features and when I’d finished asked, “Have you been in the laboratories much?”

“No,” I replied, “Maids aren’t really allowed in there too much since Peter doesn’t want us near anything that could have blue matter in it. I’ve gone in a few times to tell him when a guest arrived or to give him packages, but that’s about it.” I stared hard at the floor, my head swirling with questions that I knew I was not invited to ask. What does he need in the labs? Why does he need to talk to Peter? What could be so important that it’s worth killing someone over?

He pulled his knees to his chest and crossed his arms atop them. “There are a few secret entrances that go directly into the labs. Unless things have changed significantly, only the Walter family and R- the original bots will know where they are. A couple of them lead entirely off the Manor. My intention is to enter through one of them, since they should be unguarded, but I won’t have any idea what I’m walking into.”

“...I’m assuming talking about the original bots is off the table,” I grumbled, mirroring his pose without thinking about it.

He was quiet for a long while and then softly asked, “How are they?”

“I… they’re okay, I guess. I haven’t really spent time with any of them personally so I can only give you general information. Um, I can’t tell you much about The Jon because he left before I started working there. I don’t know what he’s up to. Hatchworth, too, though I think he stays in touch. Zer0-”

“Zer0?” he cut me off, his voice sharp. 

“Uh, yeah, he had a pretty popular solo act for a while but then got knocked flat on his ass and is back at the Manor. He’s still cheerful though. He just lost his fifteen minutes of fame.”

He frowned. “Zer0. Mostly golden but kind of… pieced together from various parts?” At my nod, he said, “I thought… I thought he was damaged beyond repair back in Africa?”

I flushed, remembering how long he’d been separated from the Manor. I guess I thought he’d heard the basic news, wherever he had been. “Oh, uh, actually they found him down in one of the basements. He needed a lot of work, but was intact enough. He’s part of the band now.”

It took Rex a few minutes to process that, his expression one of warring guilt and relief that looked out of place on his usually scowling face. I guess I didn’t know how I’d have reacted if I found out an old friend who I thought was dead wasn’t, but instead was trapped alone in the dark for who knows how long. I sat quietly and let him come to grips with that and when he looked back up, I continued.

“And Rabbit is kind of in charge of things. She transitioned, by the way. She’s a woman now. Apparently that was what her original design was before One- before the original Peter, I guess- before he stopped working on her. She seems… alright.”

His brows will raise, “A woman?” Then his eyes went distant and I could practically see the memories flowing across them. “I suppose that makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it. H-she never did seem comfortable in her own chassis.” He rested his chin on his hands. “I’m happy for her.”

He went quiet then and I could tell he was lost in thoughts about the past and his old friends- I mean, I assumed they were friends. I guess I assumed a lot of things about his history with them, but he’d clearly been part of the original band so they must have been at least a little close, right? He looked kind of sad and wistful and, being the enormous sap that I am, I felt my heart clench in pain for him. Wanting to comfort him in whatever little way I could, I scooted across the floor to sit next to him and just waited quietly.

When he seemed to have completed his journey of nostalgia, I said, “Can I ask why you left? Or is that forbidden ground?”

He didn’t look at me but said, “I left during the war. I just… couldn’t take it anymore.” He shrugged as if attempting to dismiss the subject but I was a bit aghast.

“And you think they would kill you for that?” I stared at him in complete confusion.

As I watched, his optics faded to such a dull shade of red that they almost looked brown. “They would have the right of it, if they did.”

I could tell that we were not going to get any further on that subject, so I said, “If you can get me inside with you, I can guide you through the halls… I think if most anyone saw you, they wouldn’t recognize you, just assume you were another lost bot looking for a home. The only people we would need to avoid are, well, the originals and anybody who is actually part of the family. I only recognize you because of some papers I found while I was cleaning.”

“I don’t want to take you with me,” he said, with a little shake of his head. “It could get very dangerous. I’ll…” He looked me over, then, with a sort of hopeless expression. “I’ll just have to trust you not to let them know I’m coming, I suppose.”

I scowled a little, “I’d be more willing to help if I knew what I was helping you do, exactly- _wait_ .” I cocked my head, “You’re worried about dragging _me_ into danger?”

In a flat tone, Rex replied, “You are very soft and fragile.”

My scowl deepened. “Less than 24 hours ago you were threatening to kill me, so forgive me for thinking you wouldn’t be concerned with my safety.”

His response was a smirk and, “Well, only I am allowed to kill you.”

“Excuse me?” I exclaimed, “What do you- why are _you_ allowed to kill me?!” The emotional whiplash I got from being around this robot was exhausting. He ran me through the gamut: pissed, flabbergasted, guilty, panicked, flustered, curious…

He considered my question for a moment and, lop-sided smirk widening, said, “Because I have dibs.”

“You can’t get _dibs_ on _murder!_ ” I shrieked before pinching the bridge of my nose and trying to regulate my tone. “You are… the single most confusing person I’ve ever had the unfortunate luck of meeting.”

His arm hooked around my waist and, before I could protest, I found myself deposited unceremoniously in his lap once more. He grinned sardonically, “At least I’m interesting.”

“Hey, _no_ , you had your one minute yesterday!” I struggled to scramble away but was neatly held by his obdurate grip. “Why do you- what do you gain from doing this?” I demanded. I didn’t know why he found it so funny to flirt with someone like me. I couldn’t conceive of any reason for his behavior beyond wanting to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

His hold was unbudging but surprisingly gentle. “What do I gain? Well for one thing, it makes you turn all red when you yell at me and it is very cute.”

“I’m not cute!” I vehemently protested, “And would you expect me to react any other way? It pisses me off!” I tried to push him away by the face, pressing both hands to one cheek and using as much of my strength as I could. He responded by turning his face to kiss my palm.

I made a disgusted noise and pulled my hand back as if it had been burned. Then a wicked plan formed in my mind and I pinched his nose with one hand and began poking at both of his optics with the other. “How’s this Rex? Still cute?”

To my dismay, I had miscalculated the cunning of my adversary and he overcame my attack in a most expedient manner. He tickled me.

“ _Wait no no no-_ ” I shrieked, starting to laugh, shove and kick in a bid to get away. My face was a distorted blend of utter rage and glee. “ _S-s-stop i-it!”_

Thankfully, he relented, but he wore a wicked smile that suited his face far too well. “You’re even cuter like that than when you’re trying to beat on me,” he teased.

I attempted to growl at him but it was not very intimidating, as I was also struggling to get my breath back. “You are so fucking lucky you’re a robot. Next time you go into sleep mode, I’m shoving chewed up gum into your vents.” 

Rex chuckled darkly and snuggled me closer into his arms. “Is that wise? That might give me leeway to do things to you while you sleep, and you sleep much more frequently than I.” He leaned close, his lips near my ear and voice dropping to a purr. “And I can be much more imaginative than chewing gum.”

The breath I had only just recovered caught in my throat and I leaned back as far as I could manage. “You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I hissed, “I’m also a lot more ‘soft and fragile’, remember?” I was at a full flush at that point, red from head to foot and miserable because of it.

He pulled me right back to him, nuzzling the crook of my neck with a murmur of, “Mmhmm, very soft and fragile.”

I tried not to shiver and I’m not sure what noise came out of my mouth but it was high-pitched and quavery. The metal of his face was cold against my flushed skin and I felt goosebumps all down my arms. I pressed my lips together and squeezed my eyes shut, pointing my face towards the ceiling and mentally willing him to cut it the fuck out soon.

He did, but not before pressing his lips to my right earlobe, a mirror of his kiss from the day before.

I gave a soft, embarrassing squeak then ground my teeth together and glared at him. In a voice that was an octave too high for my own comfort, I said, “I fucking hate you.”

He studied my face, tilting his head a little this way and that. “Really?”

I didn’t answer him, relocating my glare to the floor.

“Do you hate me, Emily?” he asked, in a soft voice.

I desperately wanted to confirm it but I honestly could not be entirely sure if I did or not. He had obviously had some kind of messed up life, but that didn’t give him the right to be an utter douche canoe. Rather than answering, I said, “Don’t talk to me like that.” Thankfully my voice dropped to its normal range. “It’s not sincere.”

He still held me against his chest, his hand making little circles against the small of my back. “Hmm,” he replied, “You have every right to hate me, after all.”

“I also have a handful of reasons not to hate you,” I muttered, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not just physically soft.” I scowled and pressed my face into one of my hands, mentally berating myself for even considering anything other than anger and animosity for him. But I couldn’t bring myself to fully commit to it.

“Emily?”

I refused to look at him. “What?”

In that stupid, soft voice that makes my ears shiver he said, “I want to kiss you.”

I lowered my hand abruptly to frown at him. “Why?” I demanded, “What do you gain out of it?”

He looked a little puzzled at that and asked, “Is that a robophobic thing? You don’t believe I can enjoy a kiss because I don’t have serotonin?”

“No,” I scoffed, “Not at all, but-” I had to lower my eyes. I couldn’t look into his face as I asked, “Why would you want to kiss me? I’m just- I’m some human you stole. And I don’t know if you think this is funny or if…” I drifted off, trying to hide the hurt I was feeling. “...I’m not a toy, Rex.”

Very gently he leaned his cool forehead against mine and said, “One kiss. Because you’re soft and you make me almost feel like I’m not just an evil robot. That’s all I ask. Just one.”

My stomach was doing little flips. Part of me was certain this was some kind of trap and most of the rest of me was convinced he was just playing a cruel game, but a tiny little portion of me, in the depth of my heart, wanted this. I raised my face to meet his red optics, glowing softly like embers just then, and took a deep breath. Closing my eyes and leaning closer, I whispered, “...fine.”

For a moment I thought he was going to just laugh at me for taking him seriously but then his lips met mine. Rex’s kiss was soft, not pushing or playing; a gentle kiss which I return, just as carefully. Without realizing it, one of my hands came up to cup his cheek, fingers brushing the deep ridges. 

He lingered for only a moment and then drew back. “Thank you,” he said, and I wanted to believe he sounded sincere.

I sat back and looked at him for a long moment before sighing, “I don’t think you’re evil. I think you’re hurt. There’s a big difference between the two.”

He didn’t answer that, but he did remove his arms from around my waist. There was a soft sound like a sigh as steam poured from the vents in his neck and he said, “You can go now.”

“...I mean it, Rex,” I said, as I stood. “Believe me, I wouldn’t give in as much as I do if I thought otherwise.”

His eyes didn’t follow me up, they stayed straight ahead as if he could still see me there. “I mean it too,” he said, his voice toneless. “You can go. There’s money in the cabinet by the door. Miss Beeson will let you use her phone to call a cab or the police or whatever you want.”

I gaped at him, trying to wrap my mind around what he’d just said. “...what? What do you- are you kidding me?” I swallowed, trying to force some moisture into my suddenly dry throat. “Rex, that’s- you don’t know the security code. You don’t know that I won’t tell Peter. Why are you just…” I trailed off but couldn’t look away from him.

He did not return my gaze. “I don’t need the security code for the secret tunnels and if they’re waiting for me then I’ll assume you told Walter. That’s your choice.” There was a strange note of acceptance in that statement that made me worry.

“...No.”

His brows knit but he still stared at the invisible me on his lap. “Fine, you don’t have to go to the Manor. There is more than enough cash to get a hotel for a few days. After that it will all be over and you can go back or do whatever it is that you want.”

I stood there for a moment, freedom behind me and a bastard robot who had kidnapped me, mocked me, and repeatedly threatened my life in front. “Yeah, and I also don’t have to do this.” Calling myself ten kinds of idiot, I sat back on the floor opposite him, arms crossed. “I’m not going anywhere until you get in the Manor and get whatever it is you need from Peter. If you toss me out, I’ll sit outside the door until you leave. Or, better yet, I’ll tell grandma upstairs that we had a spat.”

He didn’t have much choice but to look at me then, as I’d plunked myself right in his line of sight. “I kidnapped you and you’re miserable here. I am an asshole and you are way too nice to have to put up with my bullshit.”

“You’re also an idiot,” I snorted. “And I won’t deny that you’re an asshole. But somewhere deep inside that asshole is someone who cares enough to buy food for an old woman, to worry about me after a panic attack, and to want to protect me from danger. If you’re so distraught over me being unhappy then you can just shape up and give me a reason to smile. I’m not leaving.”

Exasperation painted his face, “Stockholm syndrome really got you, didn’t it?”

“By the fucking seat of my pants,” I agreed. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, with how you’ve been acting.” I sighed and leaned back against an old TV stand.

Silence fell between us for a good ten minutes, each of us studying the other and lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Rex spoke. “There’s something wrong with me. Since I left I’ve had to do my own maintenance, which isn’t great, but this…” He ran a hand over his head and sighed. “It’s too deep. Too complicated for me to fix myself. And I’m pretty sure it’s killing me.”


	6. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humans require entertainment and very annoyed robot kidnappers are obligated to provide.

I straightened up in shock, my stomach sinking. “What is it exactly? A virus or…”

Rex shook his head. “No, not a virus. A physical malfunction of some sort. It has caused… glitches. They weren’t bad at first but they’ve been getting more serious. And more frequent.”

“That was your shut down earlier,” I said, eyes widening in realization. “So- is that all that happens? You… well, for lack of a better term, black out?”

He scowled and I noticed him clenching and unclenching one hand, “No. That was a new one.”

I sat forward and tried to keep the worry from my face. I did not expect that he would appreciate it. “Okay, so what usually happens?”

“I don’t want to upset you,” he replied, shifting his eyes from mine.

Raising my eyebrows, I snorted, “Well, that’s a first.”

He couldn’t hold back the amused twist of his lips. “Fair. But in my defense, you are very fun to annoy. I don’t want to cause you distress, though. Not… anymore.”

“Rex,” I huffed, “I am going to be more worried if I don’t know than if I do. I don’t want to jump to conclusions and I have a very big imagination. Also, if you tell me, I might be able to help if a glitch comes on.”

He cut me a glare, eyes narrowed, and vented a soft puff of steam. “How does a tiny thing like you manage to bend me over backwards all the time,” he groused. Then his face stilled and he closed his eyes, as if he did not want to see how I reacted to his next words. “It’s painful. It’s as if various parts of my body are all trying to do different things at once and it’s causing everything to grind to a halt. It feels like I’m being pulled apart from the inside out. Sometimes the glitches are smaller and I can deal with them but sometimes they take my entire body and I can barely move.” His lips tightened. “And sometimes, apparently, they knock me out entirely.”

Leaning back with a frown, I said, “And they don’t exactly make pain meds for bots. Is there anything that helps the pain go away, once it starts? If you get hit with one I want to be able to help stop it as quickly as possible.”

He shook his head, “If there is one, I haven’t found it. I just have to ride it out.”

“So,” I mused, “Chronic bot pain… I want you to tell me if it hits. I get the feeling you aren’t one to be too open about your pain.” I paused, “How many glitches have you had since you brought me here? Just the one? Or more?”

He didn’t meet my eyes.

“Rex,” I said, trying to sound stern, “How many?”

Muttering softly about bending over backwards, he replied, “Only two while you were awake. ...oh, and the one that knocked me out.”

“Thank you,” I said, “It seems you’re good at hiding them, then.” I ran my hand over my face and through my hair as I thought. “I know you said morals aren’t your thing, so it’s probably very easy for you not to stick to your word, but I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me if one sets in. As soon as you can, once it does.”

He eyed me as if trying to come up with an argument but finally muttered, “I will if you’re awake.”

“Rex,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “I want you to wake me up. No ‘big, bad, tough guy’ bullshit. You feel one, you come get me. Until Peter can fix you, we need to figure out how to make the pain fade as soon as possible.”

Begrudgingly, he nodded.

“Thank you. Now, please, for the love of god tell me that you have ways to entertain yourself other than sitting against that wall all day.” I made an effort to lighten my voice and attempted a slightly more joking tone.

“Um,” he replied, “I think there are some old Reader’s Digests and a racquetball set somewhere in Miss Beeson’s pile of stuff.”

“...it’s no wonder you torture me for fun. You don’t have any other options.” I stood and began to poke through the pile. “I’m tempted to try and drag your ass somewhere to find some stuff for us to do. Scrabble, Monopoly or something.” Unfortunately, after digging for about ten minutes, the knick-knack pile failed to yield anything of interest. “Or not. Okay, then, do you have any ideas?” I turned to look back at him and, to nobody’s surprise, he had not moved an inch.

With a bland look, Rex suggested, “Tag? Hide-and-seek, perhaps?”

If I could roll my eyes much harder, I’d have seen my brain. “I’d pay money to try and see you hide anywhere in here,” I said. Then I remembered the legal pad back in my bedroom and went to grab it. “Are there any games that you would say you aren’t particularly good at?” I asked, as I passed him.

“Tiddlywinks,” he replied, clearly making every effort to push my buttons.

I restrained the urge to let out another huff of annoyance. “Anything that isn’t a game my great grandmother would have played, Old-Timer?”

Even from the other room, I could hear the tinge of amusement mixed with annoyance in his voice. “I doubt that I’ve played a game since your great grandmother was around, Young Whippersnapper.”

Grabbing the pad, along with a couple pencils, I returned and sat next to him. “So not only are you an ass, but you’re boring, too.”

His lips twitched as he regarded me. “Exceedingly boring.”

“Well, here’s hoping I can work that out of you,” I chirped, offering him a pencil. “Ever play hangman?”

“I don’t believe so,” he replied as he accepted the pencil.

“I’m going to think of a word and put down a space for each of the letters. Every time you guess a letter wrong, I draw a piece of a man hanging from the gallows. If I finish him, you lose.” I paused to think of a word before lining out seven spaces and drawing a stick-gallows. “The topic for this round is colors.”

I’m not sure what I expected but Rex managed to solve my word, ‘crimson’, with three letters and not even a head on the gallows. “Congratulations, you won!” I said, tearing off the page.

“Yay,” he deadpanned. 

I gave him a slight frown, “Please, Rex, don’t act entertained just for me.”

He opened his eyes wide and plastered the biggest, fakest smile ever on his face, then, making little jazz hands, he said, “Yay.” His voice was still completely emotionless. He got a surprised laugh out of me, though, but I forced myself to cut it off as I handed him the pad.

“Your turn.”

I had slightly less fortune on my turn. His word was also seven letters but by the time Rex had drawn a head, torso, two arms and a leg, all I had managed to solve was -A-T-IC. “Fuck,” I muttered, staring at the letters and trying to figure out any word, let alone a color, that looked like that. “That’s not a word. I’m about to lose because… because you decided to make up a word! P.”

Even keeping my attention on the paper, I could tell he was becoming more and more amused the more irked I became. When I suggested my letter he glanced down at the game and then up at me before hesitating a moment and, rather than drawing the victory leg, he drew an eye on the hangman.

I blinked, my anger melting in surprise. “...D?”

He added another eye. I found myself almost tempted to just work through the alphabet and see how many body parts he was willing to add. As it was, I got a nose a frowny mouth and an ear before finally, in exasperation, I exclaimed “What is it? X?”

He filled in the last letter. XANTHIC

I stared at the paper. “Xanthic?” I fumed, “What the hell is Xanthic? What does it look like?” I looked up at him and he quickly averted his gaze. Apparently he didn’t want me to catch him watching me with that crooked smile. Despite my ire, I did have to admit that it was a very cute smile and wonder vaguely what kind of person designs a robot to have a crooked smile. 

“Yellow-ish,” he replied, coolly.

“Xanthic,” I repeated in a haughty voice. “God, that’s pretentious. Good word, though. Do you want to stick with colors or change the topic?”

He arched one thick brow, “Perhaps you would prefer to choose a simpler topic?”

With difficulty, I smothered the urge to stick my tongue out at him. “It doesn’t get much simpler than colors. Just…” An idea struck me and I tried to hide my smile as I flipped to the next page. “How about food?” I drew ten spaces in three separate words. 

To my great delight, I got to draw a head on his third guess, carefully taking the time to draw some panelling along the top of it and ridges on the cheeks. He glowered at it but seemed slightly mollified when, a few letters later, I gave him a dorito-shaped torso with wiggly lines along the neck. The long noodle leg didn’t do it for him, though. Sadly, before I could add any more insulting appendages, he solved it. “Pate a Choux.”

“Congrats! I knew you could do it, pal!” I clapped and grinned at his befuddled expression at being called ‘pal’. Honestly, I was quite pleased I’d managed to stump him even for a little bit. “Now the real question is, do you know what that is?”

“A type of pastry,” he replied, “And a French term, I might point out.”

“Dang it, I wanted to try and impress you. But yeah, it’s what’s typically used to make eclairs and cream puffs.” I went ahead and flipped the page for him. “Three years of culinary school actually came in handy outside of work, for once.”

“You went to culinary school?” he asked, taking the pad and quickly jotting down eleven spaces in two words.

“Kind of,” I replied, studying the configuration, “I could either choose between vocational classes or extra electives in high school, I went with the vocational option so I’d have something to look good on my resume. We had a whole industrial kitchen and dining room to work in, and uniforms with the dumb hats and all that. I spent three hours a day for three years learning technique, passed my Nocti with flying colors, and then went to work in my first restaurant.... and hated it. The hours sucked and the pay was horrid. E?”

The game was on and he seemed to be enjoying it, despite himself. As I failed letter after letter he decided to be ‘creative’, giving me one chicken leg, one duck leg and a feathery wing before I finally found the solution.

“...Paraffin oil? But that isn’t edib- oh. Right.” I looked up into his smirking face, immediately shoving my foot into my mouth. “I thought you were steam powered. Isn’t paraffin oil used in like… jet fuel?”

He grinned as he replied, “I sometimes use it to clean out my system of grease buildup. It’s not the best option by far, but will do in a pinch. It is also quite spicy.”

I snorted, “Do you like spicy?”

He shrugged, “From time to time. Speaking of food, it is time for humans to eat.”

I rolled my eyes but got up to obey. I had found that he could be quite obstinate about keeping me on a regular eating schedule. I still hadn’t ventured into Miss Beeson’s territory, since I didn’t have anything I really needed an oven or stove to cook. I just settled for a couple Hot Pockets and called it good. Afterwards we played a few more games of hangman and then he sent me to bed. 

For an evil robot kidnapper, he could be a real mother hen sometimes.

I didn’t feel sleepy right away, though, so after I’d retreated to my room I decided to do a little craft project with some of the random supplies I’d managed to scrounge up. By the time I finished, I was quite ready for sleep.

* * *

My rest was cut short when I was awoken by a noise in the night. I lay on the squeaky bed, stars gazing down on me through the hopper window, and listened, trying to figure out what it had been. Shortly, I heard a thunk from the main room and a soft swear.

I sat straight up. I admit, I was still pretty jumpy at that point, despite my progress with Rex, and the sound was more than enough to put me on edge. As quietly as I could, I slid out of bed and crept to the door, pressing my ear to it.

From without I heard a furious hissing of vented steam and a soft grunt followed by another muttered swear.

I felt my face flush furious scarlet. He was not-! Did robots even-? I immediately stumbled back a couple of steps but managed to bump into the bed enough to bruise my ankle and had to muffle a curse of my own.

Everything went very quiet and I heard a voice softly whisper, “Emily?”

“Sorry!” I exclaimed, clutching at my foot. My voice was incredibly high, despite my efforts to modulate it. “Sorry, just- uh- just got up to use the restroom and I tripped. Sorry if I… woke you out of sleep mode. I’ll just- just go back to bed. Sorry!”

“Go to sleep, Emily,” he replied, clearly through gritted teeth, but before I could answer there was a sound like metal grating on metal and he muttered, “Ow. Shit. Fuck.”

I paused as it occurred to me that those sounded a lot less like what I had initially assumed was going on. “Are.. are you ok?” I walked back to the door and cautiously cracked it open to peep out. 

Rex was standing in the room, shirtless and with his back to me. Had I not already been beet red, I would have achieved it then. The careful care that had been put into making his face so handsome had also clearly been applied to his robotic body, all sweeping curves juxtaposed by harsh straight lines. He turned just enough to snarl at me, “I said go to  _ sleep _ , Emily.”

That’s when I noticed that he had one hand pressed to his side and it was dripping with black oil.

My eyes widened and, ignoring his orders completely, I rushed out. “What the fuck are you doing?” I yelped, “You’re- you’re bleeding!”

He backed away from me, stumbling a little as his left leg didn’t seem to want to move as smoothly as his right. “Go back to your room,” he demanded, “It’s under control.” A grinding noise from his side betrayed his lie as his face contorted with pain.

“You idiot!” I snapped, continuing my approach. I reached for the oil-soaked hand. “I told you to tell me! Where does it hurt?”

Up close I could see that the fingers of that hand were buried up to the knuckles in a panel on his side, just below where the rib cage would be, were he human. More oil was dribbling out from within. His voice was a harsh rasp, “It’s not a glitch. It’s just a normal issue that, ah, that I’ve been handling by myself for fifty years. Go to bed, I don’t need you.”

I grimaced. “You’re bleeding”, I repeated. “I will not go to bed. Sit down and tell me what’s going on.”

He growled at me, “I’m not bleeding. I don’t have blood. Something just sn-ah!” He hunched over around his side, eyes squeezing shut.

My own eyes widened and I rushed to gently press my hands against his. “F-fine, leaking, same difference. Just let me help, ok? Because that doesn’t look like it feels warm and fuzzy.”

He continued to snarl at me but he allowed me to touch him, so that was a start. “I am not sure what happened. Everything was fine and then there was a snapping sound and now there are shards of  _ something _ all over in there, but I can’t register any part of me that’s broken.”

I could feel myself tearing up but my face shifted into a serious, calm expression. People who knew me called it my ‘Emergency Emily’ face. “Don’t move,” I ordered, “I saw a flashlight in the pile.” I quickly walked over and began tossing random items aside as I dug for the light I remembered seeing that afternoon. “I’m going to pull those shards out and then we can patch whatever it is that’s leaking.”

He sighed in vexation but gave up arguing with me. “There’s a toolbox over, ngh, by the dryer there.”

Having finally found the flashlight, I gave it a test click on and off to make sure it worked before going to snatch up the heavy toolbox and return to his side. “Sit. What were you doing when you heard the snap?”

“Easier for you if I stand,” he muttered, moving to lean against the dryer to keep himself upright. “I wasn’t doing anything. I was just sitting.”

“Well things don’t just snap out of the blue when you’re sitting around,” I argued. I turned the flashlight on and stuck it in my mouth before rolling up my sleeves and motioning for him to move his hand away from his side. With another hiss of the vents in his neck, he obeyed. Before I could do anything else, I had to grab up a rag from the toolbox and sop up a good amount of oil. When it cleared, I could see into a bewildering mass of gears, coils, tubes and things I couldn’t identify. Fortunately, it was easy to spot the thin pipe that was leaking oil, as it was right next to the panel. There were also shards of coppery metal here and there, some of it interfering with the moving pieces of his body.

Deeper inside, though, I spotted a piece of twisted metal caught between two of the larger gears. The gears strained to continue their rotation and this seemed to be the source of the grinding sounds. I didn’t hesitate before beginning to reach in, but Rex hissed and grabbed my hand, getting oil all over my wrist. “Do you want to lose a finger?” he snapped. “Use the needle nose pliers!”

“Right, sorry.” I grabbed the tool and carefully pinched it around the blockage. “I am not sure how this will feel to you, but I think I need to get this chunk out first. Ready?”

He closed his eyes, gripping the dryer to the point where it dented a little around his fingers, and nodded. “Be careful.”

I set myself, determined to make this as painless as possible for him and pull it out in one go. I wrapped my hands around the pliers and yanked back with all my strength, grunting loudly. I had to do some wiggling but with a clunk it came free. He grunted and nearly sank to his knees, but I could see the blocked gears begin to spin more freely. I held up the mangled piece of metal and gasped when I realized that it was the remains of a bullet.

Rex steadied himself and reached over, plucking it out of my hand. He held it up to his face, turning it. “Mauser… 7.92 x 57mm. Probably World War II. That’s been hitching a ride for a while.” With a dismissive grumble, he tossed it into the trash can next to me.

“Wait, what?!” I exclaimed, snatching it out of the bin and holding it up to the light. “You still have shrapnel in you from the fucking  _ Second World War?! _ ”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ve taken a lot of bullets over the years, some of them are bound to get stuck.”

I stared at him for a solid ten seconds, completely flabbergasted at how nonchalant he was about it. “...okay. Okay. Okay.” I let the bullet drop back into the trash and grabbed up the pliers again. I intended to discuss this more, but first I had to finish what I was doing. Carefully, I dived back into his side and began fishing out the rest of the shards. “Okay. Okay then.  _ Okay _ .”

It took me nearly a half hour to get them all, silence heavy between us other than the occasional hiss of his vents if something hurt. Afterwards he directed me to duct tape the pipe. “I’m short on supplies for a more permanent fix,” he said. “I’ll have to go into town tomorrow.”

I finished up the patch job and mopped up some more oil. Then I paused, taking a moment to appreciate the complexity of his inner workings. “Do you have any clue why it decided to act up now?”

He took the rag from my hand and did his best to wipe up the oil that had dripped and splattered around the panel, before closing it. “More than likely it has been shifting bit by bit for years and just happened to get caught in something tonight.”

I couldn’t look away from the panel. “...Is this a regular thing? Old war wounds open up and you just… just deal with it? Alone?”

He shrugged again and avoided my eyes. “I don’t have a lot of choice in the matter.”

I couldn’t move, the sounds of his earlier pain bouncing around in my head. I felt like there was a physical weight pressing down on me from above as I imagined him struggling to pull that bullet out himself, oil up to his elbows and a grimace of pain on his face. 

He gave me an annoyed frown and said, “Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“What?” I snapped to reality and looked up, blinking. “Look at you like what?” Then I felt a tear roll down my cheek and wiped it away. I couldn’t remember starting to cry.

Rex regarded me with a hard expression, red optics burning. “Don’t you feel sorry for me, Emily. I’m not worth it.” He gestured to his oil-stained side. “I’ve earned this and more. Just… go to bed and try not to think about it.”

I stood and scowled right back at him. “First of all, you don’t get to tell me whether or not you’re worth my feelings. They’re mine, not yours. Secondly, no one ‘earns’ something like this. You don’t deserve to still be suffering because you helped your country. And… and you say that like I have a choice.” I snatched up a fresh rag and roughly scrubbed at the oil on my hands, sniffling as I moved towards my room.

He called my name and I turned. I couldn’t read the expression on his face but at least it was gentler than before. He reached out, with his oil free hand, thankfully, and carefully tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you.”

Confusion paralyzed me and I just gaped at him for a moment, not moving away from his touch. Finally I managed, “...you’re welcome. I… should get some more sleep before the sun rises. Try to get some rest yourself.”

I waited until his hand withdrew from my face before returning to my room and lying down. I stared up into the darkness for a long while, unable to sleep as I puzzled over the robot in the other room.


	7. Checkmate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A battle of wits. 
> 
> Nitwits.

In the morning, Rex seemed to be in a surprisingly good mood.

I’d woken up feeling pretty tired, but forced myself out of bed. After getting dressed, I tucked my craft project into an empty shoebox and, carrying it behind my back, walked out. “Morning. How’s the side holding up?”

Glancing around, it appeared he had spent a good portion of the night meticulously cleaning up every bit of oil from the floor and anywhere else it might have gotten. Back in his usual spot by the wall, he looked up at me and replied, “It’s fine, thank you. The tape is holding.”

“Good. Uh… when are you going to get supplies?”

“Shortly,” he replied. “I wanted to wait until you were up and about.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” I murmured and paused next to him, trying to inconspicuously place the box on the counter within his arm’s reach. Then I went to grab myself something to eat from the fridge. I very stealthily kept one eye on him as I went.

He glanced at the box and then at me. I think I may have been less stealthy than I’d assumed because he got a knowing look on his face and pointedly ignored the package.

I held my tongue, but intentionally met his eyes before turning to pull out the milk bottle. “I should check the pile for a coffee maker,” I said, “If I’m not going to manage any good sleep, I should at least be able to have some caffeine.”

“I apologize for waking you last night.”

“Don’t,” I said, closing the fridge and walking over to the counter. “You needed the help.” When I got near, I ‘accidentally’ bumped the box closer to him with the milk carton. “Oops, sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what?” he asked. He looked up at me and quirked a brow to confirm without doubt that he was playing with me. I couldn’t even be annoyed; it was nice to see him loosen up a bit.

I had to play along. “You know what? I don’t even know,” I replied as I moved to grab a bowl and spoon.

A tiny smile played around the edges of his lips as he watched me and it caused a flutter of happiness in my stomach. My stomach. Definitely not my heart. Then he asked, “Is there anything you need me to bring you from town?”

“Maybe some energy drinks,” I replied. I ducked my head into one of the cupboards, feigning looking for something deep inside. “Open the booooox,” I whispered breathily, fighting down a goofy smile.

“Did you hear something?” he asked. “It sounded like a pest. Perhaps I should pick up some mousetraps.”

“Maybe you should,” I replied, a little sing-song in my voice. “Wouldn’t want anything chewing on your wires. Open iiiiiiiiit,” Finally I grabbed a bowl and leaned back out of the cabinet. “Then again, maybe it’s your conscience returning after all these years.” I gave him a cheeky grin.

“”I’m fairly certain that my conscience gave it up for a bad job and retired a long time ago.”

“It probably came back out of desperation. No one really has a plan for retirement anymore. Poor thing is probably broke.” I bumped the box closer again as I poured myself a bowl of cereal. 

Rex watched me with the blandest smile on his face, but his red optics seemed to be glittering with amusement. “Are you feeling well? You’re more clumsy than usual this morning.”

“I didn’t sleep well, is all,” I replied, pointedly giving the box another bump. By then it was touching his shoulder but he continued to ignore its existence. “I didn’t say coffee sounded good for shits and giggles, you know.”

“Perhaps I should feed you warm milk before bed and sing you a lullaby?” It seemed that he could not keep up the fake smile anymore because it shifted into my favorite crooked one. 

I took a bite and, mouth full, said, “Perhaps you should.” Then I turned away as if I was looking around the room so he couldn’t see my face. “You’re a cowaaaaard. A box avoiding cowaaaaaaaard.”

Then Rex did something that I would never have expected in a hundred years. He stood up and wandered over to the knick-knack pile. He shifted aside a few pieces of junk in a way that told me he knew exactly where the object he was looking for had been hidden and likely had secreted it away there himself. My eyes popped a little as he brought out a beaten up old guitar and resumed his seat by the wall, idly tuning it. 

I turned away and shoveled another spoonful into my mouth to avoid gaping at him and that’s when he began to strum a little tune. It shouldn’t have surprised me because I had heard the Steam Powered Giraffe band sing and play and I knew he had been a part of the group in the early days, but I was even more shocked when he began to softly sing. “ _ I can play this game all day, until you’re old and gray… _ ”

I was being mocked in song. I choked on a laugh and had to pat my chest, clearing my throat before turning back to look at him. “I think the rats are multiplying.”

He didn’t look up from his strumming, “Perhaps, but some are more acceptable than others.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” I retorted. I finished eating, taking a moment away from the game to enjoy listening to his tuning, and then went to rinse out my bowl. “Are you scaaaaared? Scared of a booooox?”

His tune continued, sounding very playful and light. “ _ There’s nothing around that could scare Rex, but Emily’s the one that he likes to vex. Do, do, do, do, do, Not gonna open the box.” _

Much as I was enjoying his playful side, I did want to see him  _ actually _ look inside the package, too. I opened the mini fridge and stuck my head in. “Priiiiiick,” I whispered, with a little frown. “Oh, and can you maybe grab another half gallon of milk?”

“ _ Milk, coffee and energy drinks _ ,” he sang, nodding. His voice, even singing so softly, was deep and rich. He must have been very popular, back when he was an entertainer. I started trying to scheme ways to get him to sing for me more in the future.

“No, no,” I said, “Coffee  _ or _ energy drinks, unless you want me to have a heart attack.” I turned my head to evaluate a particularly ugly magnet on the fridge. “You’re a diiiiiiick. I made you a present and you won’t even accept it. You aaaaaassssssss.”

His strumming stopped and he looked up in surprise. “A present?”

I returned his gaze, “Hm? Did you say something?”

Rex frowned at me, “A present?”

I couldn’t help but smirk a little as I finally felt that I was getting the upper hand in this battle of wills. “What present?” I glanced at the box and blinked in surprise. “Oh, I should move that out of the way. It’s taking up way too much space.” I reached for it but his silvery hand whipped out and snatched it away before I could take it. His frown deepened.

He examined the box before looking back at me and, almost hesitantly, asking, “Is it a present?”

“Is what a present? That?” I gave him my best wide-eyed innocent look and shrugged, but the corners of my mouth twitched up, likely giving me away. “I don’t know, I’ve certainly never seen it before.”

He glanced back down at it and then up at me once more before opening it.

Leaning against the counter and inspecting my nails (they needed a trim), I asked, “...well? What is it?”

He reached in and pulled up one of the numerous little tokens from inside. It was silver and black with an R in curling cursive on top. Granted it was mostly crayons on cardboard and a button but I had to work with what was available to me. He studied it for a moment, glancing down at the other similar tokens, some silver and black with red and some white and light blue with pink, before saying, “I’m… not sure.”

I moved over and pulled out the folded up piece of cardboard that was tucked under the tokens, opening it to reveal a carefully drawn chessboard. “It looks like a game of some kind…” I said, feigning curiosity. “It appears ancient and strategy based… chess, perhaps?”

He dropped the R token back in the box, picking up a white and light blue one with a pink B on it. “You made this? ...for me?”

“Me? Rex, don’t be ridiculous! Do I seem like the type of person who would put the time and care into making something this cheesy?” I raised an eyebrow and smirked at him.

He just kept turning the token over and over in his fingertips. Finally, softly, he said, “Thank you.”

I blinked in surprise at his tone. “I… it’s not that big of a deal, really. It’s just paper and cardboard.”

Something in his eyes told me that he was trying to find words to express a thought but kept discarding them. Instead, he just murmured, “Thank you, Emily.”

“...you’re welcome.” I fidgeted a little, not expecting such a genuine reaction from my robot kidnapper and unsure what to do with myself. Finally I said, “Um, you should probably go get those parts you need before the tape gives out. I can set up something so we can play a game when you get back.”

He didn’t look at me but nodded and finally dropped the token back into the box before handing it to me. Then he stood and wordlessly prepared to go.

* * *

It took Rex a couple of hours to get into town, do the shopping, make his repairs and return. I’m not sure why he decided to repair the pipe in town, rather than bringing the supplies here where he would have had more privacy, but when he got back the work was all completed. In the meantime, I’d set up a ‘table’ by his usual spot, stacking various boxes and containers into a short stand that we could use while sitting on the floor. I’d also set the game up, placing the black and silver tokens on his side of the board, the white and light blue on mine.

After he returned and I’d put away the supplies he’d brought, he settled into place on his side of the board. “I haven’t played in a very long time,” he said, studying it.

“Well then,” I said, grabbing a pillow to sit on and positioning myself across the board from him. “I might actually have a chance here.” I carefully centered a couple of my tokens on their squares and grinned at him. “Try to give me a sliver of a chance at winning, ok?”

He did not give me a sliver of a chance at winning. He wiped the floor with me. It was a massacre. And even worse, he didn’t gloat or anything!

After the first game, I frowned down at our pieces. “Okay… Try this on for size,” I said and, as I reset the board, I took away his queen and rooks. “Play me again without those.”

He leaned back against the wall with a smile. “And what do I get when I win?”

I crossed my arms, pursing my lips at his cockiness. “What do you want  _ if _ you win? Within reason.” 

He eyed me up and down, very slowly, as he considered. “Hmm…” Heat rushed to my face and I swallowed down the urge to smack him. It would hurt me a lot more than it hurt him and, besides, I wanted my rematch.

“Within reason,” I said and was proud that my voice was only a little strained.

He put his hands on his knees and said, “If I win, I get to choose our next ‘entertainment activity’.” I opened my mouth angrily but he cut me off, “And you get veto power if you do not consider it within reason.” He smirked.

I tapped my fingers against my thigh as I considered. “And on the off chance that the super  computer doesn’t beat me, what do I win?”

“What do you want?”

I eyed him up and down the same way he’d eyed me. Unfortunately, he just preened and made me blush even worse. My gaze shifted to the old guitar he’d been toying with that morning. “...do you still sing? Other than made up ditties to piss people off?”

He looked a bit surprised. “It’s been a while.”

“But you can, so considering we don’t have a radio, I want you to sing something for me. I’ve gone a whole day without real music and I feel like I’m going through withdrawals.” I returned his smirk with interest. “I’ll even let you pick the song.”

He studied me for a moment and then nodded.

“Great,” I said, making the first move.

This time I focused all my attention on the game, brow furrowed as I tried to set traps and predict his moves. To my annoyance, he seemed to spend more time studying me than the lay of the pieces and he still managed to beat me, though I held out better than before.

I sighed as I realized that I was, once again, stuck in a checkmate and glanced up at him nervously. “Congrats,” I said, “Now… what is it you want to do?”

He reached one long arm over and confusion washed through me as he pulled the guitar to himself. He strummed a couple of chords and then grinned at me. “Do you sing?”

I sighed in relief and rolled my eyes. “A little.”

He lifted a hand and waved it in invitation. “You start, I’ll pick it up as you go.”

I cleared my throat and kept my eyes on the wall as I sang the first thing I thought of, “ _ There’s a field of flowers and they smell like you… _ ” It had been a while since I had sung Anastasia by Voltaire, but I was confident that I could remember the lyrics. Rex listened intently and began a simple accompaniment as I went along. I refused to acknowledge him, but I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

When I came to the end, I finally looked at him again. “...there you go,” I said, wrestling with myself to stop acting like a shy little girl.

He tilted his head a bit and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a human sing for me before. Not specifically for me.”

“Really?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re like… what? 120? And no one has ever sung for you?”

With a shrug, he replied, “I was always expected to entertain them. Not many people worry about whether a robot is entertained. And more recently, well, I’ve been pretty solitary.”

I made a small, disgusted noise in the back of my throat as I shook my head. Fucking humans. “...sorry.”

His voice was even but he tilted his head back to study the ceiling as he replied, “It’s alright. Back then I had the others and we took care of each other.”

Silence fell between us and I could see he was sinking into unpleasant thoughts. Hoping to snap him out of it, I said, “Do you want to play another game? I could take the castles, but that would leave you pretty well screwed over.”

To my relief, that made him laugh. “Take them and we’ll see how I fare.”

I did, actually smiling a bit with excitement. It was a win-win for me, because if I lost I would get to see someone win a game of chess with only pawns and knights, something I’d never heard of before, and if I won, well, I won. 

The game commenced and despite his handicap, Rex held his own pretty well. I was just starting to edge him out, though, when the pawn dropped from his suddenly shaking hand. I froze for a moment and then my eyes darted to his face in silence, my heart skipping a beat. His eyes were closed, his brows furrowed.

“It’s happening.”


	8. The Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rex is hurting. Can Emily help?

“Shit!” I scrambled to get around the chessboard and grab onto his hand. “Rex? Can you look at me?”

He pried his eyes open and I could see the red light of his optics flickering erratically. I could hear the gurgling churn of his boiler working in overdrive. 

“I need you to focus on me, ok? What does my hand feel like?” I gave his hand a squeeze, running my thumb in quick circles in an attempt to give him a sensation to focus on other than the pain. His fingers, smooth and cool to the touch, curled around mine.

Rex smirked at me but it was strained. “Soft and fragile.”

“Very funny. Give me some more details.”

I could tell that he was struggling. His brows were tightly knit and I could hear the clicking of gears as he worked to unclench his jaw. “Warm,” he managed. “Small. Nn. Trembling.”

Internally, I was panicking, but I clung to my Emergency Emily face and tried to think of anything I might do to help him. “Ok,” I said, “I know you don’t need to breathe, but if you can, take some deep breaths. Then I want you to… tell me about your bike. Where you got it, how long you’ve had it, everything. Down to the tiniest detail that you can manage.”

His dark brow twitched and, in one smooth motion, he tugged me across his lap again to press his face to the crook of my neck. “No,” he said, softly, voice tight. “Thinking hurts. Just… Shh.”

His movement had elicited a quiet gasp from me and I stiffened initially but after the shock passed I leaned into him. Slowly, I moved my hands to the top of his head, brushing it in light strokes with the tips of my fingers. “...ok.”

He replied with a muffled sound that might have been, “Thanks.” I continued carefully running my fingers over his head, following the grooves and tracing along the lights over his ears. I watched him, as best I could from my close position and worked to keep my breathing steady. I racked my brain but I simply could not think of anything else to do to help ease his pain. It seemed, though, that my touch did take a little tension from his shoulders, at least.

We sat like that for perhaps five or six minutes before I felt him draw in a long, slow breath of air. There was a feather-light brush of his lips against the side of my neck but it was soft enough that I couldn’t be sure if it was deliberate or not. Finally, he sat back and met my eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” I said, looking him over. I’m sure worry was etched on my face. “Did any of that help?”

With a little shrug, he lowered his eyes. “It wasn’t so bad that time. I can’t be sure if it was you or just a lighter episode but… The thing you were doing with your hands. It was soothing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, sitting back and running my hands through my hair. “It definitely doesn’t seem like something I should try talking you through, though.”

“I appreciate the effort,” he replied, leaning back against the wall, “And listening to your voice is fine. It is just difficult for me to speak when it’s happening. Things simply don’t… connect properly. I’m not sure how to explain it in a way that a human would understand.”

“We have something like that,” I told him. “I’m not sure if it feels the same, but it’s called going nonverbal. It can be a side effect of disassociation or sensory overload.” I paused, “You just have to also deal with added pain.”

With a nod, he said, “Sensory overload may be the closest comparison, though it’s not exact.” He studied me for a moment and it seemed that the glow of his optics was more steady and bright than I’d seen previously, even before the glitch episode. “Are you alright, Emily?”

“M’fine,” I said, looking down at my hands. “Just trying to figure this out… I hate not knowing what is happening and not being able to help. I already don’t have a lot of control in this situation. It would be nice to know I can at least do something.”

He reached over and cupped my cheek in one of his cool hands. I froze at his touch and found myself stuck between the urge to lean into it and the urge to snap my head away. When he spoke, his voice was pitched low and almost gentle. “I know I am the cause of your situation but… I do understand the feeling of not having control of your life.”

I twitched away, just a little, and said, “You’re not forcing this on me anymore. I could leave.”

I think he noticed my reaction and, going contrary to his natural bastard tendencies, he brushed my cheek just once with his thumb before withdrawing his hand. “You can. Anytime you wish.”

“But I don’t want to,” I said, sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose. “Which makes it worse, I might add.”

“Worse in what way?”

“In the way that now I know I’m willingly letting you mess with me. Because I know if I stay it’s not like you’re going to suddenly have a stroke of sweetness, so I’m staying here knowing full well that you’re going to fuck with me, make threats and do whatever the hell you want to.” I suddenly stiffened, realizing that I had never left his lap. It seemed to be his favorite place for me, anymore. I started to very slowly edge away, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Apparently he did notice, though, because he scooted me right back and looked into my eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Emily,” he said, voice even, “I am an asshole and a generally shitty person. I will never stop enjoying your temper and will actively work to push your buttons and get you riled up. I will drive you crazy and tease you until you want to disassemble me and burn the pieces. But… I promise that I will never knowingly physically hurt you.” His voice lowered a little, “I don’t… ever _want_ to hurt anyone, but you least of all.”

I couldn’t help but stare at him in incredulity. “Why?” I asked, “You’ve known me less than a week. You just happened to get lucky that the girl taking a picture of your bike was a complete and utter sap.”

His response was a somewhat sardonic smile. “I did get lucky, I think. You probably don’t want to hear this, Emily, but you are the closest thing I’ve had to a friend in fifty-odd years.”

“Ok well, one, I don’t believe that, and two, you kiss all your friends?” I raised my eyebrows and tried to imitate one of his smirks. “Because I have news for you, Rex, that goes a little beyond friendship.”

Surprisingly, he ignored my latter provocations and asked, “What do you mean you don’t believe that?” He frowned at me.

I crossed my arms. “You were gone for half a century,” I said. “You must have met _someone_ that would spend time with you.”

His gaze went vacant and he looked over my head, seeing the past. “I had acquaintances. People I worked with. They mostly considered me a tool, a dangerous tool, and I did not see any point in working to change their perception.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, scowling at the floor. “I don’t- I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to deal with that. That’s not-” I cut myself off and pushed my lips together, forcing myself to stop before I started a rant.

His finger went to my chin and gently tipped my face up to meet his eyes. “You misunderstand. That was the way I wanted it. That is how I had every intention for it to be with us, as well.”

I scowled and pulled away from his touch. “Why would you want that for yourself? It’s no wonder you don’t see yourself as a fucking person if you barricade yourself away from anyone who might tell you otherwise!” 

He arched a brow and regarded me, seeming to consider how he wanted to respond to my accusation. “I don’t want that,” He said, at last, “It is just safer that way. You don’t remember a tool and you don’t talk about someone you’re afraid could crush you without even noticing. Darlin, do you think it is just the Walters that I am hiding from?

That caught me off-guard and I blinked at him in surprise. “Yes? I did. Who… who else is looking for you?”

With a disgusted snort he replied, “The entire US government. Better if the Walters find me first. They will only permanently shut me down and disassemble me.”

“What?!” I stared at him in absolute shock, my jaw dropping for a moment. “Why?!”

He gave me a calm smile and tweaked my nose, “Do you really think you’ve unlocked my tragic backstory already, Sweetheart?”

I fought the urge to bite him but only because I liked my teeth unbroken. Frowning, I leaned back, “You said you couldn’t handle Vietnam. I’m pretty sure that the government doesn’t kill abandoners. Also… maybe.” I muttered the last word with my head turned toward the wall.

“I never said that the government wanted to kill me.” He took my hand and gently twined his delicately jointed fingers with mine but, surprisingly, seemed ready to release me if I pulled back. I did not. “The more you know about my past, the more danger you are in. As it is, you can honestly tell anyone who asks that I kidnapped you against your will, held you captive in a basement and was an ass to you the entire time.”

Looking at our hands, I wondered if he just liked the contact or if he actually thought of me as something more than just a friend. A friend whose brain he liked to fuck around with a lot. “Not to sound like an utter cheeseball,” I replied, “But at this point I’m in pretty deep and I don’t care about the danger. As it is, I could also tell them that I willingly decided to stay and help you… _and_ that you were an ass the entire time.”

In a quick, sharp move, his other hand came up to catch my jaw, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were bright with some barely restrained emotion. “Emily,” his voice was cold and deadly serious, “You will _not_ tell anyone that you helped me of your own free will. I told you, I am the only one that’s allowed to kill you.”

I brought my free hand up to push at his wrist. “And I plan to keep that true. No one is going to kill me, least of all you.”

Rex released my jaw but only to take that hand and hold it, too. In a quieter and somehow even more intense voice he said, “Do not underestimate the lengths to which they will go to find me. Their interest in me is not because I am some sort of criminal. They are under the _mistaken_ impression that they own me and they intend to reclaim their property.”

A deep scowl settled on my face, my own eyes flickering with anger. I sat in silence and stared at our joined hands for a few moments. “...I fucking hate humans.”

“I don’t,” he replied, giving my fingers a gentle squeeze. “The vast majority of them are good, creative, kind, curious, adaptable… It just happens that the ones that are less savory are also the ones that tend to seek out positions of power.”

“How is it that, of the two of us, I’m the one bitter with the human race?” I tried to give a chuckle but it was half-hearted. “...sorry.”

I could feel his eyes on me but we sat in silence for a few minutes before he released my hands. “It occurs to me,” he said, “Before the glitch, you were winning.”

“By miracle of miracles, I was,” I managed a stiff smile and glanced back at the board. “Are you sure you want to continue? You might end up losing.”

“No,” he replied, gently drawing me against his chest. With my ear pressed to him I could hear the whirring and ticking of his inner mechanisms. I could feel the soft warmth of his core, glowing red beneath the dark fabric of his shirt. “I concede,” he said, “And am prepared to pay my penalty.”

“Really? You don’t seem the type to give in to losing so easily.” I bit my lip, sure that he planned to turn this into another joke. I’d given up on trying to get away when he held me like this. He would let me go when he wanted to. And… his arms were more comfortable than I wanted to admit.

“I certainly am not,” he confirmed. Regardless of that statement, he began to trail one hand lightly up and down my back. I could feel goosebumps sprout up on my arms and they only grew worse when, softly, he began to sing. I recognized the song, ‘That’ll Be the Way Home’. I had always heard it sung cheerfully, but from him it had a wistful quality.

I tilted my head as best I could to watch him sing. His rich voice melted me a bit inside, which didn’t seem fair at all. I waited until a couple of moments after he’d finished the song to breathe, “...you should… you should do that more often.” Then I mentally kicked myself, remembering that he had most likely stopped entertaining for a good reason. “I mean- it was nice. Really very nice. And I… it’s weird to see that. You being nice.”

He chuckled and I could feel it rumble pleasantly in his chest. “A moment of weakness, I assure you. I am certainly not nice. But if you would like me to sing, from time to time, let me know.”

“I… I will.” After a couple of minutes I realized that I was getting far too comfortable in this position than was good for me and I cleared my throat. “Do you know what time it is?”

“It is 5:48pm,” he replied, precisely. “And you have barely eaten today.” He gave me a concerned look.

“I haven’t been hungry,” I said with a shrug. “I’ll eat something now, if you’ll kindly release my bonds.” I gave another shrug, this time with the intent of pressing against his arms rather than conveying emotion, and tried to hold back a smirk.

He removed his arms from around me and as I sat back I thought I caught the briefest flicker of remorse cross his face, but it quickly turned stern. “And actually eat, this time. I saw how much of your dinner you threw away yesterday.”

I stood and made my way to the minifridge. “I don’t know if you’ve ever tried an instant meal, but they typically aren’t very good. Besides, I don’t have much of an appetite to start.” I pulled out some sort of frozen pot pie, looking it over without enthusiasm, before asking, “Wait, can you taste?”

“Yes,” he replied, “The Colonel felt that was important, for some reason, given that we don’t actually eat. I think he intended to teach at least one of us to cook so that we could make meals for Sweet Deliliah.”

“Well then I’m assuming that also comes with a sense of smell.” Peeling back the plastic on the meal, I walked over to him and knelt down, holding it to his face. “Take a whiff and tell me that smells like something you’d want to ingest, if you could.”

Rex gave half a sniff and made a face. “If they are so awful, why did you pick them?”

I sighed softly as I moved back to the microwave. “Because I was very out of it when we went shopping and my brain said ‘box picture yummy’. I forgot momentarily that the contents of these are never as good as what’s advertised.” I popped the pie into the microwave and leaned against the dryer while it hummed.

He was right behind me though and quickly pulled the instant meal out of the microwave to toss it into the trash. “That,” he decreed, “Cannot be healthy for you.”

With a frown for the waste of food, I shook my head. “Okay, well it’s either one of those, some Pringles, or another bowl of cereal. I got stuff that didn’t need much prep because I didn’t know Miss Beeson would offer to let me use her stove.”

“Hang on,” he said, walking into the bedroom. I heard him digging around in the closet for a moment and when he returned there was a largish black box tucked under one arm. “Put on your shoes, Darlin’. We’re getting you some real food.”


	9. Vanilla Milkshake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evil robot and a woman walk into a diner...

“I told you not to call… What is in the box?” I regarded my kidnapper with a suspicious look. 

“Come along and you’ll see, Sweetheart,” he responded with a teasing smirk.

I huffed and went to pull on my sneakers. As we headed out, he put his hand at the small of my back but it didn’t feel threatening anymore. He tucked the black box into one of the back panniers and handed me the ugly, green helmet. He started to mount the bike but hesitated. “Do you know how to drive one of these things?” he asked.

It was at that point that I realized that, when he had been passed out from a glitch the other day, I had almost tried to steal a bike I couldn’t even drive. Smart, Emily. “No,” I told him, trying to keep any guilt off my face. He didn’t need to know about my escape attempt. “I’ve wanted to for a while but never got around to it. They aren’t exactly cheap.”

“Well,” he replied, making room for me to sit in front of him, “Time to learn.”

I paused before climbing on. “Are you really sure that this is a good idea? I’m not exactly the best driver. There was a reason I was walking to work when we met.” 

“If a glitch hits me,” he said from my back, “I do not want to run off the road with you all soft and fragile behind me. Crashing at high speed into a tree might give me a few dings, but they’ll buff out. It would be somewhat different for you.” I shuddered a little at the thought.

He took a few minutes to give me a rundown of the basics, reaching around me to point out different gauges and parts of the bike. Then he quizzed me for a bit, to make sure I understood. Finally he let me start the bike and take a few very nervous laps around the yard, starting and stopping pretty suddenly each time. “Ok,” I said, “We might end up moving at a snail’s pace, but I can get us there. ...I’m not a fan of the speed controls.” I turned to look over my shoulder at him, “Now where are we going?”

He directed me to the same place where we had previously gone grocery shopping. As we reached the edge of town, he indicated for me to pull into a little mom-and-pop diner. It was gray with a blocky red roof and a grand total of three other cars in the parking lot. The sign said, ‘Molly’s’. 

I laughed as I pulled into a parking space and, taking off my helmet, said, “You think this is any healthier for me, Silver? Diner food is known almost exclusively for being very bad for humans. It just happens to be tasty enough that we don’t care.”

He got off and adjusted his leather jacket before retrieving the mysterious black box out of the pannier. “We’re going to the store afterwards to get you actual good food,” he replied, “This is a treat for putting up with me.” From the box he extracted a wide-brimmed, black fedora, which he put on and pulled down low over his eyes. “Ready?”

I had to press my lips together to hold back a laugh. “Sure thing.”

Rex glanced at me and scowled. “What?”

I stepped backwards, towards the entrance to the diner. “You’re just… a wee bit dramatic. And… dorky. It’s cute!” Before I could see his reaction or regret what I’d said, I quickly turned and headed for the door.

The inside of the diner was done up in pea soup green and sunshine yellow. I tried to envision a more unfortunate color combination but my imagination failed me. There was a long counter with round stools and opposite that a row of booths. One man sat at the counter as if he lived half of his life in that seat and a couple sat in the booth next to the door. I made my way to the booth in the farthest corner, Rex sitting across from me a few moments later.

I took one of the sticky and stained menus from behind the caddy of multiple syrups. Glancing it over, I said, “I’m going to assume you’ve never actually come here before?”

Rex took a menu for himself, though I greatly doubted that he intended to order anything, and buried his face in it. I heard him mutter something in response to my question, but I couldn’t quite make it out.

Catching the top of his menu with one finger, I tugged it down to look at him. “What was that?”

He huffed and replied, “I came and picked up a pie for Miss Beeson’s birthday once.”

I didn’t respond. I just pressed my lips together again and very slowly raised my menu up so that he couldn’t see my face before I let myself grin. “That was… not nice,” I said. “Not nice at all. Terrible of you, really.”

I could hear his scowl and it sounded like it was toeing the line on the way to being a pout. “Quiet, you. I am a very evil and nasty robot who manipulates poor, innocent old women by plying them with their favorite baked goods.”

“Oh, yes, you’re rotten.” A giggle slipped out as I looked over the top of my menu at him. “Just the worst.” 

With a sour expression, he grumbled, “I will remember this and punish you thoroughly for it when there are no witnesses.”

“I’m shaking in my booties,” I said with a snort. I knew full well that it wasn’t an idle threat, but I simply couldn’t stop myself from teasing him while I had the chance. 

I caught the dangerous red spark of his eyes and he softly hissed, “You should be,” and a dagger of ice sank into my stomach. It was just a joke, right? He wouldn’t get  _ that _ mad over a joke, would he? I didn’t have a chance to reassure myself as a middle-aged woman with unnaturally red hair and an unfortunate pea soup green and yellow uniform came over to take our orders.

“A bacon cheeseburger and fries,” I said. Then I glanced at Rex and decided that if this was going to be my last meal, I might as well make it a good one. “And a vanilla milkshake.” 

The server glanced at Rex, curiously trying to get a good look at him under the brim of his fedora. He growled, “Just water. No ice.” His tone was enough to cause her to beat a hasty retreat.

After she’d gone, I leaned back in my seat and looked over at him, letting my eyes linger on the hat for a bit longer. Deciding to put worries about my punishment on the backburner for now, I said, “Thank you.”

He snorted as he took both menus and returned them to their holder. “You are not allowed to thank me for anything. The balance of nice things I have done for you to crap I have made you endure will never justify it.”

I shrugged. “Don’t care. I will keep saying it. Positive reinforcement and all that.” I glanced to the side of the table and pulled a bowl of individual creamers to myself. Wordlessly, I began to stack them into a pyramid. 

Rex watched me idly for a moment and then, in a hushed voice, said, “I’m going the day after tomorrow.”

My hand jerked and knocked over half my pyramid. I glanced quickly around to make sure nobody was within earshot and then began restacking as I softly replied, “You mean we. We are going the day after tomorrow.”

His voice was cold. “I told you that I wasn’t taking you. It will be far too dangerous.”

Keeping my attention focused on my pyramid, I replied, “And I told you that I don’t care. If it comes down to it, I’ll camp out on the bike so you can’t leave without me.” I frowned and let my hand rest on the table, my creamer construction complete. “I’m going to help you get in and get to him without being noticed.”

With a soft growl in his voice he said, “I have already kidnapped you. What makes you think I won’t just tie you up, gag you and leave you in the basement?”

“You could,” I ventured, “But you don’t want to. You know you’re more likely to run into serious trouble if you don’t bring me along. And I know you don’t want anyone to get hurt unless totally necessary. It will be fine. We go through the tunnel, we get to Peter. I’ll help explain by saying… Saying that I found you passed out and that you needed help. As far as he knows, I don’t have any clue who you are. We get you fixed and we- you leave. You leave.” I had managed to keep my voice serious throughout my little speech but it softened against my will at the end.

“No,” he snapped, his voice harsh. I tensed but before I could reply he visibly forced himself to calm down a bit and continued, “Fine, I will take you, but on three conditions. One- if anyone asks, you will tell them that I forced you to help me and that I threatened to kill you if you did not. They still don’t have to know that you had any idea who I was, but they’re not going to believe that you’re stupid enough to think some random robot nobody knows the way through the secret entrances and you didn’t question it. Two- if we encounter anyone other than Walter, you get behind me and you let me deal with it. You do  _ not _ interfere. And three- if it comes to any sort of a fight, you run. You run fast and far away and you do not even  _ think _ about looking back.” His eyes burned into mine, “I will not be responsible for you getting hurt, Emily. I’ve already done enough to you.”

I stared at him for a long moment, chewing my lip but unable to look away from his eyes. I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t run from a fight, but he didn’t have to know that. “...fine.”

He crossed his arms, face set. “Promise me.”

“Fine, I promise,” I said, still not looking away from him. “But if it does turn into a fight, you’re not allowed to die. You’re not even allowed to get hurt because, if you are, I will be severely disappointed that I wasn’t the one to cause the damage.”

I could see that he was trying to maintain his severe expression but couldn’t stop the quirk of his lips. “I can only promise to try,” he said.

“That’s good enough for me.” I took a deep breath to calm down my pounding heart, then carefully slid the tower of creamers in front of him. I grabbed a packet of sugar. “Now, onto another very serious topic. Have you ever played table football?”

“Table football?” he asked, seeming startled by my quick change of mood.

“Table football,” I echoed back at him before balancing the sugar packet between the table and my finger and flicking it so that it flew into the creamer pyramid, knocking half of them into his lap. He cast me a scowl but said nothing because the server arrived just at that moment with the food. She set my plate in front of me and watched Rex out of the corner of her eye as he began putting the creamers back.

I managed to get out a strangled, “Thank you,” as I grabbed some napkins. Somehow I waited until she was gone before cracking up.

He dumped the last of the creamer into the bowl and cut me a dangerous glare. “I am adding that to the list of things I will punish you for later.”

“I didn’t know that having a good time wasn’t allowed,” I returned, snippily, when I managed to stop laughing. I quickly snatched up another sugar packet and tossed it onto the table in front of him. “Come on,” I said, “You get a free shot.”

Still glowering, he arched a brow. “At what?”

“I don’t know, hit me with it,” I said, making a target with my fingers. “No mercy, Mister Big and Evil.”

He rolled his eyes but lined up the packet, taking aim. When he went to flick it, though, he missed, his finger hitting the table with a loud crunching sound and leaving a shallow gash in the bright yellow tabletop.

I blinked in surprise and then snorted. “Your aim is… a little off there, buddy.”

Rex pressed his lips together and muttered, “Eat your burger.”

I stuck a few fries in my mouth but they lost all taste as something occurred to me. Swallowing quickly I said, “Wait… It’s not…?” I glanced around again before looking back to him. “...it’s not a glitch, right? Because you still have to tell me if you get one of those while we’re out.” I seriously doubted that he had meant to take a chunk out of the table and I recalled that he said that sometimes the glitches made it hard for him to control his movements.

Closing his eyes, he softly replied, “There’s nothing you can do now anyway. Eat. It’s… not that bad.”

“It’s not that good, either.” I frowned at him before sliding out of my side of the booth and over into his, grabbing his hand under the table and running circles against it with my thumb. I snagged my drink and took a sip to keep up appearances. Under my breath, I told him, “You can lean against me.”

He tried to resist for a minute but then flinched when a shock of pain hit and gave in, resting his head on my shoulder with softly murmured thanks. I grunted and kept sipping my drink, glancing at him occasionally and switching the direction of the circles every few moments.

I was more than halfway through my shake before he sat up with a little sigh of his vents. Reaching across the table, he slid my plate in front of me. “Eat,” he instructed me, his voice weary.

In return, I nudged his glass of water. “Drink,” I said. “I could hear your boiler chugging.” I watched him gulp down most of the glass before taking a few bites of my meal. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was and the plate was empty in a matter of minutes. A little embarrassed, I wiped my mouth before looking back at him. “Do you feel any better? Now that it’s over?”

He nodded. “Just a little drained.”

“We’ll skip the store and head back,” I said, “I’ve got one day until we go, I can certainly survive off what we bought last time until then.” I leaned back and took another sip of my drink before offering it to him to try.

He declined both my suggestion and my drink with a shake of his head. “I’m fine, really. I want you to have decent food.”

“Rex. It’s one day and I really want you to feel better.” I gave him my best stern look.

He studied me with a strange expression that I couldn’t interpret, but it involved a hint of my favorite crooked smile. “I promise, Emily, I’m fine,” he told me. “Besides, it won’t make any difference whether I am back there or at the store. I don’t function the same way you do.”

“...Fine,” I sighed. My gaze fell on the marred table. “Maybe we should…” I murmured, sliding my empty plate to cover it. Rex snorted softly and nodded. I was down to the last sip of my drink and I offered it to him again. “Come on, it’s good. Going once… going twice…?” I grinned and gave the glass a little shake.

He gave me a sickly sweet smile and said, “Do you want to clean it out of my gears later?”

“If you trust me enough to let me, sure,” I said. “If you have taste buds, or whatever, you might as well be allowed to use them.”

At first he looked surprised and then amused. He took the glass from my hand and sucked the last of it into his mouth. He swirled it around a bit and then immediately spat it back into the cup. “Hmm, not bad.”

I scrunched up my nose in disgust. “I said I’d help clean it out. Talk about backwash. Wait. Do you… have spit?”

“Not as such, no,” he said, reaching into an interior pocket of his jacket and pulling out a beat up wallet. “I do have an oral lubricant, though, that works in much the same way.”

“Oral lubricant,” I muttered. “That doesn’t sound totally wrong or anything.” I stood and brushed the crumbs from my lap. “You ready?”

He nodded and tossed money for the meal onto the tabletop before standing to follow me out. I noticed that he’d left far more than would pay for a cheeseburger and milkshake. Enough that might, say, fix a busted tabletop. I didn’t think he would appreciate my acknowledgement of the act, though, so I swallowed my tongue. 

After dinner we went to the grocery store and I picked up some fresh vegetables with thoughts of making a stew. I could eat it tomorrow and give the rest to Miss Beeson. Everyone loved vegetable stew, right?

The drive back to the house was slightly less nerve wracking than the drive away had been, so I guess I was improving my motorcycling skills. I carried the groceries down the external stairs, wondering vaguely if I’d need to borrow a cutting board and knife from Miss Beeson. 

I had made it barely two steps in the door when a cold, metal hand grabbed the back of my shirt, right behind my shoulder blades. I was shoved, gently but firmly, face first against the nearest wall and held there as the bags were plucked from my fingers and set aside. Then a low voice growled in my ear, “Now. About your behavior.”


	10. Crime and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily faces the consequences of her actions

“Fuck.” My voice was high and breathless. “...I am a-assuming it’s a little late f-for an apology?”

He released my shirt but planted his hands on the wall to either side of me. I could feel the closeness of his body, the warmth of his core on my back, and when he spoke his head was near enough to mine that I could occasionally feel the brush of his lips against my ear. “I would say so, yes.”

My breathing grew shallow and my mind scrabbled for a way out of my position. Very slowly, I attempted to slide down against the wall, hoping I could duck under his arm and book it to the bedroom. I didn’t have a lot of hope but even that was dashed when he asked, “Do you really want to annoy me further, Darlin’?” The endearment he liked to tease me with held a bite this time.

I froze. Automatically, I started to say, “Don’t-” but cut myself off, trying not to raise my voice or sound angry. That always seemed to spur him on in the past. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to mess with y-you a little.”

He wasn’t touching me at all, other than the occasional tickle of his lips against my ear, but his presence was almost overwhelming. Big and warm and so close. “I see,” he purred, “So then it is only fitting that I ‘mess with you’ a little in retaliation, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I think you’ve messed with me enough,” I replied and, despite myself, I was unable to keep from adding a bit of an edge to the words, a scowl starting to settle on my face.

“Do you think so?” he asked with a deep chuckle, shifting so that he spoke in my other ear. “How very naive.”

“Stop it,” I said, forcing my voice to be firm despite the quivering feeling in my gut. I turned my head so that he couldn’t get to my ear. “I said enough, Rex.”

He moved closer and I could feel his chest press lightly against my back. I’d have moved away but I was completely trapped between his arms and the wall. I felt my knees tremble as he asked, “Are you afraid?”

I took a deep breath, focusing on my anger at the situation rather than anything else. I ground my teeth together and spat, “No. No, I’m not afraid. You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Good,” he breathed. One of his hands left the wall, moving to brush my hair aside and then I felt his lips on the back of my neck. 

I gasped and struggled to turn around, but his free hand slipped around my waist, effortlessly holding me in place. Desperately, I fought off the waves of pleasant tingles radiating from his kiss. I refused to enjoy this. “I said _stop it_.”

Without even bothering to remove his lips from my skin, he asked, “Why?”

“Because-” But my mind failed me. I struggled to find a reason other than the fact that he would be gone in two days. Finally I managed, “Because I didn’t do anything wrong! And this is- you’re just-” Try as I might, I wasn’t able to find the words and let out an aggravated growl as I tried to worm out of his grip.

His lips trailed across the back of my neck in a series of feather-light kisses, each one hitting me like a tiny shock of lightning. “Is it so terrible?” he murmured. “Being held by me? Touched by me?”

“No- yes-” I let out another irritated noise and tried futilely to pry his hand off of me. “It’s fucking complicated!”

He ignored my attempts to wrest myself free. I could feel the low rumble of his voice all down my spine as he demanded, “How is it complicated? I know you enjoy it. I can feel your pulse race. Hear your breath quicken. See your blush. Tell me how it is complicated.”

My jaw clenched and I shook my head, trying to shove down the knot growing in my throat. I had to try twice before saying, “It’s complicated because you’re going to leave and I can’t just… my feelings don’t just leave with you, asshole!”

Immediately I found myself being spun around. Effortlessly he gathered both of my small hands in one of his and pinned them to the wall over my head. He stared down at me, optics glowing crimson. “The day after tomorrow there is a very good chance that I will be permanently disassembled.” He paused and trailed the tip of his nose along my cheek. “This may be the only chance I get to take what I want. It’s not fair to you, I know, but I am a _very_ selfish person.”

I gaped at him, struggling to even out my breathing. “And you want me? Because… I’m soft and fragile?” Furiously I tugged, trying to get my arms free as I glared.

“I want…” He pressed a soft kiss to my left cheek and his voice gentled, “I want to hold you. And kiss you.” He shifted over and pressed a matching kiss to my right cheek. “And I want to pretend for just a little while that I have the capacity to feel what love is.” His lips brushed against mine, just for a moment, and I had to force myself not to follow him as he drew back to study my eyes.

I was still frowning, though I’m sure it softened. The resistance drained out of me. I went still, a little limp, and my gaze fell to the floor. I drew one more shuddering breath. “...you said that you wouldn’t hurt me. Did you only mean physically?”

Rex’s hold on me loosened, though he didn’t let go, and he drew back a little further. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but his previously warm tone was hollow. “So, it is that terrible.”

“No, it’s not. It’s not at all. I just-” I could feel the burning prickle of tears trying to well up in my eyes and furiously blinked them away. “I don’t want to lose you, one way or another. I don’t want you to be hurt, or disassembled, or… or for you to leave. And if we do this- if we do this I have to live with the fact that we did after you’re gone.” My voice went sharp, “And I’m so _pissed_ because I want it. I want to kiss you and to- to hold you and help you and… and love you. But I don’t want it to bite either of us in the ass, in the end.”

Finally, I risked a look at his face. He pressed his eyes tightly closed and seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. When they reopened, the bright crimson had faded to the dull red I was accustomed to. “I understand,” he said, simply, and, pressing one more soft kiss to my forehead, he released me completely and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

I massaged my wrists though his grip had been gentle, despite my struggling, and studied him. The knot in my throat tumbled down into my stomach, which churned with anger. Anger at him, myself, this situation. Everything was lose-lose for me.

But it didn’t have to be that way for him.

“ _God fucking damn you_ ,” I snarled and reached up for him, doing my best to either pull him down or pull myself up. My lips found his and he went stiff with surprise but almost immediately enveloped me in his arms, returning the kiss. I stayed there as long as I could before I had to draw back for breath. Then I pressed my forehead to his chest, trying to fill my lungs as quickly as possible. My hands moved to cradle his face, letting my fingers explore all the different ridges and plates. “You.. are so… _fucking lucky_ … you found me.”

He leaned into my touch, his response betrayed lingering surprise and confusion at my abrupt turnaround. “I am.”

I fell silent for a moment as my breathing evened, then I looked up at him. Softly, I said, “...your life is either going to be a lot longer or a lot shorter than mine. Either way, you deserve to have this and I have no right to complain. What we do from here is up to you.”

Rex studied me, tilting his head as his bemused expression melted into a tiny frown. Slowly, he stepped back and said, “Would you put away the food, please?”

“...what?” I blinked up at him, suddenly feeling very cold without his arms around me. “But… I thought…?”

He gave me a placid smile and brushed my cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be right back.” His cool touch left a trail of sparks across my skin. My brows drew together in confusion but I nodded and turned to pick up the grocery bags.

His eyes followed me to the refrigerator and then I heard him go outside. I started to put things away but my stomach was twisting with worry. Something felt wrong. Something felt very wrong and I was afraid that he was going to do… something. I took a deep breath and hurried to the door, cracking it open and peering out as stealthily as I could manage.

There was a large overgrown field behind Miss Beeson’s house. Judging by the sagging fences, it looked like it was once used to keep horses. Rex was out in it, glancing around as if looking for something buried in the weeds. I crept closer, ducking behind a large bush that grew beside the fence. I prayed that he didn’t have some sort of fancy robot night vision.

I watched him look around for a bit before he apparently spotted what he was after. Reaching down, he lifted a stone, the size of a large watermelon. I suspected that I would have had trouble picking it up at all, but he hefted it easily in one hand. He turned and in the moonlight I could see him press his hands to either side of the rock. His eyes gave a flash of red and with a loud crack he crushed the thing to pebbles. 

Dusting off his hands, he started towards me. As he came close, he nonchalantly said, “I told you that I would be right back.”

“I had a bad feeling,” I admitted, standing and looking at him. “What are you doing?”

He draped an arm around my shoulder and guided me back with him to the basement. “Breaking things.”

I cocked an eyebrow at him, “...why exactly?”

Rex held the door open for me as he replied, “Because I am an asshole and breaking things makes me feel better but I’m not _quite_ enough of an asshole to break things that belong to little old ladies.”

Slowly, I moved back to the bags and finished tucking away the last of the vegetables. “I see… So are we not going to… you know…” I looked over and found him right beside me. “Because we were kind of having a moment, I thought, and then you… went to make gravel instead. Did I say something wrong?”

My breath rushed out of me in a yelp as he suddenly scooped me into his arms, bridal style. His voice was tinged with amusement as he replied, “Absolutely nothing wrong.”

“You! Do you not know how to warn a person?!”

He grinned at me and kissed my jaw, “No.”

“Prick. You’re a prick.” I tried to use my usual insults, but I couldn’t keep the edge of my mouth from twitching up slightly. I found myself easily settling into his arms, leaning against his chest. 

With a grin and a nod, he carried me across the room. “It’s true, I am.” Then, somewhat to my surprise, he slid down to sit at his usual spot against the wall, tucking me into his lap.

“There is a bed exactly one room over… and yet you pick the floor.” I leaned back so I could give him an exasperated look.

He laughed softly and curled his arms around me, holding me to his chest and resting his chin atop my head. “Emily?”

I settled myself down, moving closer rather than away for once. “Rex?”

He kissed my hair. “Can we just stay like this for a while? Please?”

With a bemused smile, I replied, “I don’t see why not.”

“Thank you.”

I paused for a moment before turning my head and resting it against his chest. I closed my eyes and listened to the soft clicking and whirring of his inner systems at work. “It’s supremely unfair that you can tell when I’m flustered but I can’t tell for you.”

I felt his small laugh against my cheek. “There are ways.”

“Such as?”

He reached for my hand and lifted it to kiss my palm then moved it down to rest low on his stomach. Through his shirt I could feel a soft vibration. “My boiler kicks into overdrive,” he said, then moved my hand up to rest just below where his breastbone would be, were he human, over the everpresent red glow. “My core heats.” Finally, he moved my hand up to rest it against the side of his neck. I could just feel a light gust of warm air. “And my vents open wide.” He gave me a playful smile. “Just like you, right?”

“Not too far off, actually,” I murmured with amusement. “Butterflies in the stomach, heart rushing, hyperventilating…” I returned his smile. On a whim, I pressed my hand back over his vent and stretched up to press my lips to his right earlobe. I was rewarded with a hiss of hot steam against my fingers. That made me smirk and I leaned back just a hair so that my lips were still right next to his ear as I said, “I do actually fluster you, huh, Rex?”

His hands sank down to rest on my hips as he replied, “You have no idea.”

I laughed lightly and moved my hand down from his neck, trailing it over all the little bumps and ridges of his chest. “...I really didn’t think you liked me like that, at first,” I admitted.

He raised one black brow. “At first being how long?”

“Until… until just now,” I said, hunching my shoulders a little. “I pretty much figured you just found my reactions funny more than anything.”

He watched me and his fingers stroked soft circles on my hips. The touch of his hands were cold but they left warm trails across my skin. “Hmm, well I suppose that’s fair. I am a heartless bastard, after all.” His smile was only partially playful.

“No,” I replied, “I just have very low self-esteem. We both know you’re much softer than you like to admit at this point, Rex-”

“Spine,” he interjected, cutting me off. “The Spine.”

I blinked up at him, wondering if I had misheard. “What about your spine?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and let his fingers skim through the rest. He pressed his lips together for a moment, hesitating over something, and then said, “I told you that I use a lot of names, but The Spine. That’s me. My real name.”

“Oh,” I breathed. “Spine…” It felt weird to call him anything other than Rex, but it wasn’t bad. And it felt as if he was letting me in on a secret that he’d been holding close for a long time. “Why are you telling me this now?”

His expression told me that he wasn’t quite sure of the answer to that himself, but he said, “I wanted to hear you say it.” His eyes took on a distant, slightly haunted look. “...It has been a very long time since I was called by my name.”

I frowned at the pain etched on his face and reached up to cradle his cheek. “Well then, I’ll say it again. Spine, Spine, Spine, Spine, Spine, The Spine.” I paused, “Is there a reason why that’s what you were named or did your inventor just think it sounded cool?”

It took a second for him to refocus on me. “Hm? Oh, I was originally built with a spinal column of smoke stacks, though that was later replaced with titanium alloy. Also..” He stood, lifting me up with him as if it was nothing, and stepped away from the wall. There was a metallic ringing sound, like multiple swords being drawn at once, and six gleaming metal fins projected from his back.

My eyes widened and I hesitantly reached over his shoulder to touch one of the topmost fins. “Oh… uh.. You know, for someone who’s concerned with looking big and scary, I would think you would have these out more. They certainly have a certain, um, presence about them.”

“Careful,” he warned, “They’re very sharp. And they also draw a lot of attention, tend to knock over everything when I walk around, and…” He glanced over his shoulder with a slight scowl. “...and I keep forgetting that these shirts aren’t made to accommodate them.” There was another sound of metal on metal as he retracted them and I realized that the back of his shirt was shredded. “Another one for the rag bin,” he muttered.

I winced on his behalf. “Oops. So I’m going to assume that Spine isn’t short for Spinal Column. I still don’t have a full name to yell at you when you tick me off.”

He stepped back to the wall and slid down again, chuckling. “I’m afraid that’s all there is to it. I’m just The Spine.”

We sat in silence for a minute or two as I digested this revelation. As I contemplated, I carefully ran my hand down, inside his shirt, towards his stomach area, pressing my palm against the plate so I could feel his boiler vibrating. “Can I ask you a question?” My voice was small. I didn’t want to ruin the mood but I had to ask. “It’s personal and… you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

“Ask and I’ll answer if I can.”

“All of the Walter bots that I’ve met before have blue cores, but yours is red. Why?” 

Bonus art by the ever talented [Dark Prism](https://electrozilla.tumblr.com/)


	11. Red Core

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Storytime
> 
> Please note: Y'know in the tags where I say I play it fast and loose with the lore? This is what I was referring to.

I shifted a little closer, sliding my nails over the metal beneath his shirt.

His eyes drifted half-closed at my touch and it took a moment before he replied, “That is a long and complicated story.”

“We have all night,” I retorted, “And tomorrow. I don’t know many stories that take longer than that to explain.”

He searched my face for a long moment, weighing things in his mind. “Desperate for that tragic backstory, aren’t you Darlin’?” he sighed, at last.

My hand drifted up to lightly stroke along the ridges in his neck. “Just a little, Handsome,” I said. “You give me yours and I’ll give you mine, though it’s no doubt much shorter and less interesting.”

A quick puff of steam jetted against my fingers and he said, “I suppose that’s fair. You first.”

I took a deep breath and let it out in a rush, lowering my eyes. I said I’d tell him, but it didn’t make finding the words any easier. His fingers ran up and down my back, soothingly, and I began. “Once upon a time an extremely whiny baby was born to a mother, a father and two siblings. Several years passed and the mother and father decided to break up. The father moved north and the mother followed, dragging the kids along. Upon finding that the father wasn’t interested in fixing things, she found a new man, remarried and moved back south.

“Only it turned out that the new guy was an alcoholic who liked to use his hands just a little too much in conversation,” I could feel him stiffen a little but his hands kept petting me, so I continued. “The whiny baby got less whiny and more silent, keeping to herself so she wouldn’t be targeted. After four years, the mother broke up with the guy and the baby, no longer feeling obligated to stay and protect her mother, moved north.

“And the whiny baby got whiny again. And angry. And very nervous around people. Turns out the whiny baby had PTSD and depression. The whiny baby went through therapy for four years and came out less angry for the most part but she also found herself feeling guilty. She decided to give her mother another chance to be a mother once she finished high school. But the whiny baby realized as soon as she moved in with her mother that she’d made a horrible mistake.

“That started a depressive spiral over the span of a year. The mother berated and abused the whiny baby until she finally stood up for herself and was promptly thrown out. The whiny baby went crawling back to her father who helped her set up a life and find a decent job as a maid. The whiny baby finally felt some semblance of control over her life until she was suddenly kidnapped and subsequently fell for her kidnapper.” 

I flushed bright red. “The whiny baby is 90% sure that she’s clinically insane but…” I sat back and looked up at him with a sigh. “The whiny baby is, at this point, 100% okay with that.”

One of The Spine’s hands moved up to gently stroke my hair. “Can I ask one question?”

“Ask and I’ll answer if I can,” I said, giving him a half-hearted smile.

His voice dropped low and his eyes sparked dangerous scarlet. “Where is the alcoholic now?”

“...I honestly have no clue,” I said with a shrug, any semblance of a smile fading. “He and my mother broke up because he was sleeping with another married woman. They fucked off and went somewhere northeast, I think. For all I know he’s still out there fucking up more lives and families.”

He drew me close and I got a suspicion that he might be looking into that more, if he survived the next few days. “You are not a whiny baby,” he told me, simply, “And I’m sorry that all of that happened.”

“Not your fault. And I would have to disagree.” I leaned into him, “I’ve whined quite a bit the last few days.”

He gave a soft snort of amusement and I was intrigued to note that it was accompanied by a tiny puff of steam. “It doesn’t count as whining if you have legitimate reason to complain.” 

“You also haven’t met me outside of this situation,” I countered, “For all you know, I whine incessantly.”

“Well then, until I have further evidence, I will declare you not whiny.” He tweaked my nose and I swatted his hand away.

“Fine,” I replied, “Until I have further evidence, you’re not evil.” I smirked. “Desperate, maybe, but not evil. Now, your turn to spill.”

He hesitated and softly said, “You might change your mind soon, then.”

I gave him a stern look. “Doubtful.” He gently tugged me back against his chest and rested his chin atop my head. It felt like he didn’t want to have to look at me while he told his story. I didn’t complain, pressing my cheek against him and wrapping my arms around his middle. This time it was my turn to run my fingers soothingly up and down his back. 

From my position, I could hear his boiler begin to churn a little faster, though I couldn’t tell if it was due to my touch or nerves. He gathered his thoughts for a moment and asked, “Do you know why the Colonel- Peter Walter I- built us?

I considered before responding. “I’ve heard rumors. Some people say it was just out of ingenuity, some say it was originally to create weapons of mass destruction. Some say he was trying to impress a lady, others say it was to compete with a rival. I’ve also heard he was insane and had no clue what he was doing but did it anyways. They’re all over the place but if I had to guess, based on what you said earlier, it was to impress someone… Delilah?”

“A little of all of the above, really,” he replied, gently twisting and untwisting a strand of my long hair around his finger. “We started out as a project to impress Miss Delilah Morreo and win her away from his rival. He was going to make us musicians to charm her but before we were completed, the rival set forth his own plan to woo the lady.” He snorted again, “By setting a bunch of mad, mechanical elephants loose in Africa.”

“I’m sorry, what the fuck?” I interjected. “How high off his rocker was he?”

I could hear his smile, “That is a very good question and I am afraid that I do not have an answer. Rest assured, his descendants are little better. Anyway, the Colonel quickly changed plans and built the original steam powered giraffe, a giant thing, and finished us off by adding an arsenal of some of the most powerful weapons in the world, at the time. Then he shipped us off to Africa and thus began, and quickly ended, what was later dubbed The Weekend War.”

The Spine hesitated and I asked, “Do you still have them? The weapons?”

Quietly, he replied, “And then some.”

Shifting slightly, I moved my arms from his back and hooded them around his neck instead. “So then you were all brought back to America, right? And that’s when you started performing?”

With a little shake of his head, he continued, “We were brought back just in time for Miss Morreo to suffer a tragic death. After that, the Colonel wasn’t very interested in making us entertainers, or in us at all really. He continued tinkering with other mad inventions, but we were a reminder of her.”

“...oh. I’m sorry.” My heart gave a pang for him and the others.

He absently pressed his lips to the top of my head. “It’s alright. He eventually found someone else and procreated and his sons, Peter Walter II and Peter Walter III, if you can believe it, took an interest in us and resumed their father’s work on making us entertainers.”

“Still,” I said. “Well anyways, that’s when you all started performing? Originally as ‘The Steam Man Band’, right?”

He nodded and went quiet for a while, seemingly lost in memory. “Those were a good few years but they didn’t last. Shortly thereafter, World War I started. The government had seen what we were capable of in Africa and we were… Well, they called it being enlisted but it was more a seizure of property. We were sent into the darkest, dirtiest fights, not just to overpower the enemy but also because we could be sent without ‘risking a life’.”

I tensed at that, barely keeping myself from making any noise of disgust. I contented myself with muttering, “...motherfuckers.”

Risking a glance up at him, I found him gazing vacantly at the wall behind me. “Fighting the elephants… It wasn’t pleasant but, while they were robots like us, they’d only been built to have intellect matching their animal counterparts. When we had to fight people… humans... “ A shudder ran through him. “And they’d never seen anything like us before. We would step out onto the battlefield, these twisted metal facsimiles of human beings with glowing eyes and ray guns for hands…” He shook his head. “They couldn’t fight us. All they could do was flee and die.”

Neither of us moved for a very long moment after that. My breathing was deep and steady but I couldn’t keep a slight shake out of my voice when I spoke. “It’s not your fault.”

He shrugged a little. “We may not have been giving the orders, but we were still carrying them out.” The Spine drew back then to look at me with concern. “I’m sorry, Darlin’, is this too much?”

“No,” I replied quickly. “I’m just- it’s not you.” He could no doubt see the anger in my eyes as I said, “And it’s not like you had much of a choice. Either do what they said or get torn apart… or run away. And we both know which one you chose in the end, though it came later. Keep going.” I pressed myself back against him, trying to keep calm.

He stroked the back of my head as he said, “I know this seems like a lot of background, but it all leads up to the answer to your question. Anyway, after the war they sent us back and expected us to switch right back into entertainer mode.” His voice took on a bitter tone. “They didn’t even take out our weapons! Just sent a group of machines that had demonstrated great ability to commit mass-murder into crowds of innocent people to sing for them. And we did. I enjoyed it.” Softly, he said, “Much better to make people smile than… other things.

“Of course that ended with World War II. It was the same song and dance as World War I but with bigger guns. But… at least it felt like we were doing something right. Fighting for the right side instead of just the side that  _ owned _ us.” He shrugged, “When you see some of the things they were doing to people… I was nearly fifty years old by then but I still couldn’t begin to comprehend how humans could be so inhumane to other humans.”

I gave a stiff nod. My fingers were tense against his neck and the only reason that I wasn’t speaking was because I knew that my tone would sound like pure rage and I didn’t want him to think for a moment that it was directed at him. I suspect that he was picking up on my emotions, though, because he began to rock me back and forth a little as he continued.

“We proved very useful in World War II and the government decided that we could be even more useful, so they put us through a series of evaluations. They wanted to upgrade one of us.”

“No,” I breathed. It was barely audible but he surely heard it. I knew what was about to come and I couldn’t stand the thought of it. I held onto him as tightly as I could, shaking a little from the effort of not exploding into a screaming fit.

The Spine went still other than the hand that continued to stroke my hair. “That’s enough for now,” he said in a gentle voice, “I’ll tell you more later. Tomorrow.”

“No,” I said quickly, though I kept my voice carefully emotionless. “No, I’m fine. Keep going. It’s better for me to find out all at once, otherwise I’ll be seething until I learn the rest.”

He looked down at me with a concerned expression. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” I replied, “If I find out now, I’ll be mad for a while. If you make me wait until tomorrow, it’ll simmer on the back burner until I have the whole story and I’ll explode over something stupid. Keep going. Please.”

His hand came around to cup my cheek and he tilted my face up to give me a gentle, lingering kiss. I returned it but I had to discipline myself to keep it equally soft.

Returning his hand to my hair, he settled back against the wall. “Anyway, as you can probably guess, I was chosen.” His face twisted into a bitter, sardonic smile. “I was so excited. They said they were going to make me more human and I always wanted- well… I was very naive. They kept their word, though. They did make me more human in many ways. They gave me a chassis that looked and moved more like a human being and new programming to allow me to think and adapt more like a human. And then they jam-packed hundreds of millions of dollars worth of advanced weaponry into one titanium-alloy shell.”

I pressed my eyes tightly shut, slowly curling into a ball on his lap. I grasped at both of his hands, holding tightly and willing away the mental images of him being ‘upgraded’; no doubt open up on some laboratory table like a tin can while a bunch of scientists discussed the most efficient way to turn him into a killing machine. And him being happy about it because they decided to twist the truth.

He kissed the top of my head and had the audacity to whisper, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

“No,” I snapped, “You don’t get to apologize for what they did. Never say that you’re sorry for that. Keep going.”

He nodded and said, “Well, a decade later they got to put their investment to use in Vietnam. That’s when everything…” He fell silent then, words failing him.

I waited, whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

My words seemed to jolt him into talking again, though it sounded more mechanical, devoid of emotion in a way that made my heart sink even further than it already had. “The first time they sent me out… I knew about the weapons, of course I did, I had to know about them to use them. When I saw how… without any effort on my part… it just… tore them to shreds…” I could see the struggle on his face to find the right words without upsetting me too much. “I finally took a stand and refused to fight anymore.”

“Good,” I said, lifting a hand to touch his cheek. “Good. But let me guess, that went over like a lead balloon, right?” I laughed bitterly, absolutely disgusted with what he had gone through.

“They weren’t about to let their money go to waste.” He closed his eyes then and, hesitantly, asked, “You know about blue matter. Do you know about… any of the other kinds?”

I quickly reviewed everything I’d learned during my time at the Manor. It wasn’t much. “I heard that Becile uses green but that was all the information I was privy to. The Walters didn’t want maids knowing too much and possibly stealing trade secrets.”

“There are a few other kinds,” he said, “One of them is red matter. It interacts with blue matter in… unusual ways.”

“Considering how fucking insane blue matter is to begin with, I don’t like that. What the fuck did they do next?” I sat frozen, staring straight ahead. My nails pressed against his hands, but I barely noticed.

When he spoke again, his voice was completely flat. Utterly hollow. “They discovered that if they injected my core with a tiny amount of red matter I… lost any inhibitions about following their orders. I would charge in, wherever they pointed me, a red-eyed demon and only leave when everything was dead.

“Everything.”

That did it. My hands snapped back to my chest, clenching into fists that shook so hard that it probably looked like I was hitting myself. “ _ Why? What the fuck- Who gave them the right? Who gave them the right to- to tear you apart and to- _ ” I snapped my mouth shut, clenching my teeth so tight that it hurt before letting out a muffled scream of rage. Throughout this, The Spine cuddled me gently, rocking me and whispering over and over that he was sorry.

I pushed myself away to glare at him, “No. Stop. Stop it. You don’t get to- How the  _ fuck _ could you think you’re evil?! That had  _ nothing  _ to do with you!  _ Nothing! _ ” I buried my face against him, hot, angry tears rolling down my cheeks as I clutched onto him.

Almost inaudibly, I heard him say, “...that’s not the worst of it.”

I forced myself to take a couple minutes to calm down, breathing and listening to the ticks from inside his chest. Finally, I said, “Tell me. Now.”

He took both of my hands in his, drawing them up to kiss my knuckles, and then, with his eyes focused on our hands, he continued. “They knew that the more they pumped into me, the longer the effects would last and the more… ferocious I would become. So they kept pushing it. They just kept. Adding more.” He gave my hands a tiny, gentle squeeze. “One day they went too far. I destroyed the target village… every man, woman and child… and when I didn’t have anyone else to kill… I turned back on my own side.”

I was deathly silent, my eyes glued to the red glow from beneath his shirt. I could have killed them just then. Every last scientist who had agreed, everyone who had signed off on the plan. Anyone who thought that it was a good idea to do this to him.

Normally I could always feel at least a gentle heat from his core when I was this close, but now it was almost cold. His hands trembled a little on mine. “R… Rabbit and the others… They tried to stop me. I tore them to shreds. To pieces that had to be sent back to the Walters in a box. Then I went for the humans. When I came to myself some days later… I was alone in the middle of the jungle and my core was permanently stained.

My vision was turning red around the edges. “I need to go outside. Right now.”

He released my hands.

* * *

_Post note: Rabbit and the others, as in the actual lore, were sent back from Vietnam and reassembled. They're not dead. Just in case you were worried. <3_


	12. A Small Misunderstanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout of tragic backstories

I stood and stiffly slipped on my shoes before walking out the door. I made it as far as one of the old fence posts before reeling my leg back and kicking it as hard as I could, a scream ripping out of my throat. Then I did it again. I also threw in a few punches until the pain of split knuckles and my foot pounding grounded me back to earth. I stood there, gasping for air and trying to decide if I wanted to go at it again or not. Then it occurred to me that he hadn’t followed.

Returning to the basement, I found him where I left him, head bowed and arms curled around himself. I went to him and climbed back onto his lap, carefully tucking my hands under my legs in the hopes that he wouldn’t noticed that I’d managed to slightly fuck them up. “I’m better now,” I said, “Was that the end or did they somehow manage to ruin your life even further?” My voice was flat, dry and a bit hoarse.

He shook his head and replied, simply, “After that, I ran.”

“...I’m sorry,” I whispered, leaning against him. “But none of that was your fault. None of it. You aren’t evil. You are not even bad. You were put in a shitty situation and, when you tried to fight it, they pushed you to your breaking point. That’s not on you, that’s on them.”

His arms did not wrap around me and it felt wrong. He shook his head. “Whether that’s true or not, I’m not the same bot that I was before. I’m tainted. It is still inside of me.”

“Then so am I,” I replied, “So is every person who’s been forced to do shitty things to the point that it changed who they are. That doesn’t make you bad. That makes you a fucking person.” I started to kick my shoes off and tried not to wince at the jab of pain from my abused foot.

He moved suddenly, grabbing my shoulders. “No, Emily. It is still  _ inside _ of me. The red matter. Sometimes I just…” He squeezed his eyes shut tight and released his grip on me. “If I get too angry… or sometimes for no reason at all… I break things. Hurt people. Fuck, I kidnap innocent women and threaten to make them watch me kill old ladies and I don’t even need the red matter pulsing in my core for that!”

“That still doesn’t make you evil, Re-Spine. That’s not something you can control willingly. It would be different if they never fucked with your core and you just did it for fun. And you kidnapped me because you are desperate and need help, not because you wanted to do it for giggles.” I looked at him and slowly reached up to hold his face. “I don’t care what your reasoning is, you are  _ not _ evil.”

He looked as if he was about to argue but was side-tracked as he pulled my hands off his face and stared at them in horror. “What did you do?!”

“...shit.” I sighed and lowered my eyes. “I… punched a fence post.”

“Em,” he sighed. My heart gave a little squeeze at the nickname as he carefully brushed a kiss to the one area on the back of my hands that didn’t look beat up. He shifted me off of him and stood to go dig around in the knick-knack pile. “I’m sure I saw… there.” He returned with a small first aid kit. “I hope that it’s not empty or full of sewing supplies.”

“Re _ — _ Spine, it’s just some bruised knuckles.” I tried not to roll my eyes. “It’s not the first time I’ve lived with them and it won’t be the last.”

He shushed me as he sat next to me, opening the first aid kit. To his apparent relief, he found bandages and antiseptic cream. Very gently he cleaned the splits and bandaged my hand. I found myself wondering how he became so skillful treating injured humans, but my mind skittered from the thought. 

“Sorry,” I muttered, somewhat petulantly, “I can’t exactly crush rocks with my bare hands.” I winced slightly as he got to a deeper gash on the side of my hand, but I tried to hide.

As he set the last bandage, he gave me a sympathetic smile. “I understand the impulse just… don’t forget that you are soft and fragile?” His eyes searched me. “Did you do anything else?”

I was tempted to lie but wasn’t able to. “...kicked it a couple times,” I admitted. “Also, I’m going to start a drinking game for that. Anytime you call me soft or fragile, I take a shot. Within an hour I’ll be blacked out in your arms.” As I grumbled, I peeled my sock off and my face screwed up as I saw that one of my nails had split down the center. “That explains the pain. Whoops.”

The Spine gave me a worried frown and began treating my feet. As he worked, he gave a slightly strained chuckle. “Thank you.”

“For what? Injuring myself? I’ll try to do it more often.”

“Please don’t,” he said, emphatically. “But it did very effectively give me something to focus on besides my own moping.”

“I don’t think it counts as moping if you have something legitimate to grieve over.” I managed a half-hearted chuckle before trying to keep from wincing again. “...sorry for worrying you.”

He didn’t meet my eyes, “...likewise.”

We fell quiet for a moment as he finished bandaging my foot. “After Peter looks at the glitch… do you think it might be possible for him to extract the red matter that’s left?” I peeked up at him with a bit of hope. “Or at least find a way to lessen the effects?”

Reluctantly, he shook his head. “...I saw them once, about thirty years ago. It was a complete coincidence. I almost ran right into Rabbit on a dock in Hong Kong before either of us noticed. Once we got over the shock h _ — _ she took one look at my eyes and…” He finished tucking the supplies back into the first aid kit and pulled me close so he could press his face to my neck. “She apologized, gave me a look like I’d broken her heart and told me that they couldn’t let me… like that… I barely managed to get away in one piece.” Steam curled along my cheek. “I assume that if there was any hope of fixing me, they wouldn’t be under orders to kill me on sight.”

“What?” My breath froze in my lungs. “That _ — _ why? They _ — _ they must not understand. If they knew…” I pressed my hand to the back of his head. “They can’t know. Not everything.”

His response was weary. “I think they know everything just fine. They know that red matter turns me into a monster and now that monster is always inside of me. I’m sure that they know I couldn’t help what I did back then but the Walters probably feel responsible for me and want to make sure I can’t hurt anyone again. If I can’t be cleansed then there’s only one way to be absolutely certain of that.”

“Well then they’re wrong,” I said, emphatically, “They’re wrong and as soon as you’re fixed we’re getting as far away as possible.” I pressed myself closer to him. “And no one _ — _ no one is going to do anything like that to you ever again.”

There was a long pause before he answered, very gently, “Darling, there can’t be any ‘we.’ Even if everything goes right and I manage to get fixed and out of the Manor intact… The life I live is not suitable for a human.”

My stomach sank and my cheeks flushed. I hadn’t intended to say that out loud. “I meant… I meant you. We get you as far away as possible.” I sagged slightly against him. At that point I couldn’t keep working for the Walters. Not after learning that they knew full well what was happening and still just let it happen. And… I didn’t want him to leave. Not without me. He deserved to have at least one person in his life that cared about him. “I’m still not exactly sure what kind of life you live. I’d guess it involves a lot of moving.”

With a nod, he replied, “A lot of moving and a lot of hiding out in places that are very difficult for humans to access and survive. Sometimes I have to go into cities to earn money to buy necessities and repair parts but most of the time I wander across mountain ranges or through forests, as far away from anyone as I can get.”

“...I don’t suppose you would consider finding a small, sleepy town in Alaska to stay in? One with some secluded log cabins and maybe somewhere for a certain girl to work?” I tried to force a laugh, but it was weak. It was only half a joke.

He didn’t answer for a minute and I like to think that he was enjoying a little daydream of the possibility. “I’m sorry. You deserve better than that and, more importantly, if _ — _ when I lose control again… If I ever hurt you.. I can’t.” He tapped his core, “Not like this.”

“You wouldn’t. Even if an episode came on, I know you wouldn’t. You would be more likely to hurt yourself than to hurt me. You promised, after all.” I gave him a weak smile, “Just… promise you’ll send postcards. Very misleading ones. Signed ‘Your pal, Rex’, or ‘As always, Silver’, or… or… ‘Love, Handsome.” My voice had dropped to a murmur by that last one. “Send me one from Guatemala when you’re in Japan, then one from Japan when you’re in Cuba. Even if someone other than me reads them, they’ll never know where you are.”

He cupped my cheek and made a face that I think was supposed to be a smile that fell very short. “I promise.”

I leaned into his hand and closed my eyes, trying to memorize the feeling while I still could. “...what time is it?”

“After midnight,” he said, “And you need to sleep.”

“Sleep is incredibly overrated.” I sank further into his lap, “...are you planning on just sitting out here again?”

“...I might make some gravel first,” he admitted.

I gathered my courage, twisting my fingers in his shirt for a moment, before saying, “When you’re done… That’s a queen sized bed. It has room for two.”

He shook his head. “That thing couldn’t hold my weight when it was new and I’m pretty sure Miss Beeson was a blushing young lass back then.”

Determined, I pressed, “How heavy is that mattress to you, exactly? Because I’m assuming you wouldn’t have much trouble moving it off the frame.”

That got a little laugh out of him and he kissed my temple. “Would that make you happy?”

“Very much,” I said, looking into his red eyes. “I refuse to let you sit out here alone and mope through the night. You go get rid of feelings and I’ll get ready to pass out.” I pressed my lips to his quickly before standing and going to change into my pajamas, brush my teeth, all that jazz. I heard him leave but he returned much sooner than I anticipated. By the time I’d left the bathroom, he had already moved the mattress to the floor.

He glanced at me and, hesitantly, said, “I really only wear jeans anymore. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I was putting away my clothes and trying to avoid thinking too hard about all we’d discussed. Distractedly, I said, “I doubt that you will. If you are worried then you can just wear the jeans… I’m assuming you go commando. And I could be incorrect, but I’m also assuming you look like a Ken doll down there. If not, I have some serious questions for the Colonel.”

It wasn’t until I glanced up and saw him staring at me like a deer in the headlights that I realized what I’d just said. As my face flushed red, he said, “I meant… uncomfortable with the material… of my jeans…” I opened my mouth to respond but had absolutely nothing to say. I didn’t get a chance anyway, because he quickly evacuated the room and I could feel his core radiating heat as he passed. Then the bathroom door clicked shut.

“Oh my fucking god.” I face planted on the mattress, beet red and letting out a high-pitched wail. If I shoved my own foot any further in my mouth, I’d have to ask for seconds. “That’s it. That’s it. I’m not allowed to talk. I’m going to be a mute.”

It was a good ten minutes later that I heard him leave the bathroom. I could hear him hovering awkwardly outside the bedroom door but I couldn’t see, as I had a pillow pressed to my face. I moved it aside enough to look at him with one eye, turned red again, and pulled it back. “...M’sorry. Just… please pretend that never happened.”

He didn’t say anything so I continued. “If I insulted you… it wasn’t meant like that. I just _ — _ tired brain. No think. And if you aren’t comfortable, you don’t have to lie down.” I slowly sank down and pulled the blanket up so it covered the majority of my already pillow-adorned face.

I could hear him move into the room and sit on the edge of the mattress. I almost asked what had happened to the cocky bastard that like to swagger around and loom over young women, but I decided I’d run my mouth enough. I could still feel the heat from his core. I wondered if that was the equivalent of a human blush. Finally, he managed, “I wasn’t insulted.”

I groaned and tried to sink down a little lower. “Remember how you said that you’re the only person allowed to kill me? I’m actually giving you permission. Just. Put me out of my misery.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” he replied. His voice became a little strained as he continued, “But I should probably… inform you… that you were incorrect.”

I pressed the pillow to my face, partially to wail into it and partially in the hopes of smothering myself. “ _ I’m so sorryyyyyyy. _ ”

“It was a reasonable assumption,” he said, “But for the record, it wasn’t Colonel Walter. He didn’t even give me toes.”

I snorted in amusement before I froze again. My hands pulled the pillow down of their own accord. “Oh my fucking god. When they upgraded you? What exactly did they think you’d need it for?! What kind of war machine needs a-?!” My mouth snapped shut and I quickly restored the pillow to its rightful position. “...please tell me that Miss Beeson has some duct tape over in the pile. I’ll just tape my mouth shut.”

I felt him lay down next to me on the mattress, the heat radiating off of him back almost to normal. “They wanted to make me as human as they could,” he said, evenly. “I think some of what they did was just to see if they could, honestly.”

“Fucking scientist,” I growled. “Fucking government. Fucking fuckity fuck.” It took me a hot minute before I was able to show my face again, but even so I just took a deep breath and stared at the wall. “...you don’t need to go into sleep mode, right?”

“No,” he replied, “Not for a while yet.”

“Would you mind singing for a little bit? Until I fall asleep? It shouldn’t take long, considering how little I slept last night and… and I wouldn’t mind if you got closer.” I scooted a couple inches closer to him, forcing myself to look his way.

The Spine moved closer too and turned on his side to look at me. He gave me a little smile and asked, “Any requests?”

“None in particular… no death metal, preferably.” I managed a small smile before settling down on my side, tucking one arm under the pillow and reaching to hold his hand with my free one. He brushed his thumb across my knuckles and began to sing me a soft medley of songs. The last thing I remembered was cuddling closer, my exhaustion taking away my shyness as I wrapped my arm around him and pressed my face into the crook of his neck. I felt him kiss the top of my head and sleep claimed me.


End file.
